SaaS GEES GOOD NE COUPON. We ST / [SS A SO} Sours " GE ee ak Oe LE y Ta re I i, A lo DUE: » wy 2 Ras RX SK —o/ OLY © > & y Fe SL - = ~ \e\ y » > -”\ ~E oC jj i, 5 \ -®y pag = i rt / 7X \ ( 0 THE BOYS SAW THREE MEN IN UNIFORM. “I WILL DO NOTHING TOWARD AIDING YOUR CAUSE,” SAID TOM, -EMPHATICALLY. “About two weeks ago; but they didn’t| Then it was but natural they should) this time they’re goin’ to search the bot- hat’s goin’ on?” go very far from the river.” speak of what had been taking place on| toms all along here.” hat I know of. Since the During this conversation Sam had dis-| the Kentucky side of the river, and the| The speech had hardly been ended be- Wwe are mighty quiet on| mounted, and the gray mule was allowed | subject had by no means been exhausted | fore the speaker was in motion again, he line, except when the|to wander off in accordance with his own} when a friend of Sam’s came from _ the/ and Sam asked, excitedly : One es Over from your town | sweet will as his master made inquiries| shore at full speed, halting only long| “Will you come up an’ see what they’re Ng the bottoms for guns.” concerning his friends in Madison, the | enough to say: doing?” ®y been here lately? town in Indiana which Tom just left. | “The home guards have come agin, an’ Tom hesitated, and then said: idea of stoppin’ 434 “T’m afraid grandfather will be wait- ing for me.” “That’s foolish, for he don’t know when the boat got here, and, besides, we'll be back in an hour.” “Are you going far?” “A mile or so will be enough.” Tom hesitated no longer, and the two boys set out at full speed, slackening not the pace until they had followed the course of the river for ten minutes, when Sam said, as he came to a halt: “There they are, bound for Carlton’s. We'll go over here-a piece where every- thing can be seen as plain as if we was on the spot.” Following with his eyes in the direc- tion indicated by his companion’s out- stretched hand, Tom saw a party of from seventy to eighty men, all) armed, march- ing down the road in regular order. Some wore army uniforms, others were clad in civilians’ garb, and a few were resplend- ent in gorgeously decorated. coats which had probably been owned by an independ- ent company of militia long since dis- banded. The soldiers had turned a bend in the road where the foliage hid them from view, and after leading his friend to a spot among the bushes from which Sam had said a full view of all that occurred could be seen, the latter explained that the company would soon reappear near the buildings of the plantation belonging to the Carlton family. “T should think they would be afraid to come here,” Tom said, when they halted for the second time. “Why? So far as they know there are no Confederate soldiers around, and its safe to search every house.” “T shall have something to tell grand- father when I see him, and then——” “T reckon it’ll be a good idea to let us know what it is you’re goin’ to tell,” a voice from the thicket directly in the rear cried, and, turning quickly, the boys saw three men clad in gray uniforms ap- proaching with leveled muskets. The strangers must have been in hiding when Tom and Sam halted, and from the actions there could be no question regard- ing their intentions. “We were watching the home guards from Madison,” Sam_ said, promptly. “This fellow lives on the other bank of the river, an’ come here with me,” “On the wrong side of the line, eh? Where’s your home?” “Down here a bit; you can see the house by walkin’ through the bushes a short piece.” The questioner looked first at Tom and then Sam scrutinizingly, and both of the boys heard one of his companions whis- per: “Don’t take any chances. You know what the orders are, an’ it ain’t safe to leave these fellows here where they can tell what has been seen.” “We haven’t seen anything yet,” Tom said, quickly, “an’ there’s nothing to tell. All we want is to know what’s going to be done.” This remark, innocent though it ap- peared to be, seemed to arouse the stranger’s suspicions yet more, and the first speaker said roughly as he raised his gun menacingly: “Come with me.” “Where?” “The captain wants to have a talk with you.” “What for?” “Yon’ll soon find out,” Tom hesitated as if deliberating whether or no to refuse, when Sam whis- pered in his ear: “Go on; it can’t make any trouble, for they won’t hold us after we tell just why we came here.” “Who are these men?” Tom asked, in the same cautious tone. “T don’t know; but they must belong to the Confederate army by the looks of their uniforms.” “Did you know they were here?” “No, and I don’t believe the folks on the river have heard a word about it.” “Take them along,” one of the men said, impatient because of the few sec- onds spent in the whispered conversa- tion. “There’s no time to fool away, for it appears to me as if that home guard was doublin’ back. Most likely these oung scoundrels have told that we are ere.” “We haven’t spoken to a single one of them, and I am sure I wouldn’t, because. I belong on the Southern side,” Sam said, promptly. “And I couldn't say a word if I had wanted to. It hain’t been ten minutes since I landed.” “You admit having come from the same town as the home guard?” “Of course; that is my home; but this is the only person I have spoken to since landing from the steamer.” “Prove that to the captaim, an’ there’ll be no harm done,” the soldier said, as he pushed them toward the thicket in ad- vance. “Step out lively, for I allow we're goin’ to have a brush with them GOOD fellows, an’ it won’t do to spend too much time on boys.” Understanding by this peremptory com- mand that it would be worse than use- less to resist, Tom and Sam did as they were bidden, and during the next ten minutes their captors urged them through the undergrowth as rapidly as possible, At the end of that time they arrived at a veritable encampment among the trees, where at least an hundred soldiers in gray were lounging under the canvas tents, or in such places as a breath of moving air could be felt, for the heat was most intense. Without delay the prisoners were led to a tent standing nearly in the center of the collection, where a man wearing a sword, but with no other insignia of rank about him, asked their captor: “What are you doing with such small game?” “Wefound them nota great distance away, and I believe they were posted near the camp to give information. of our whereabouts.” “Did the guard from Madison arrive?” “Two or three hours ago. When we discovered these fellows the men were headin’ for the Carlton house; __ but | ’cordin’ to the looks of things they must have doubled back through the under- brush.” “We was onl would be done,’ Tom cried, : “We have nothing to do with either side, and I hope you will give this man orders to let us go.” The captain, or, at least, the boys be- lieved that to be his rank, paid no atten- tion to these remarks, Beckoning for a lieutenant, he gave certain commands in a low tone, and then said to the soldier: watchin’ to see what am said, quickly, and "s “Tell Mason to hold on to these boys | until I have a chance to question them, and if they manage to give him the slip somebody will be called upon to answer for it.” Then the officer hurried away to where, | in obedience to softly-spoken orders, the men were falling into line, and the soldier marched his prisoners to the rear of the encampment near a cook tent, in front of which a man, with his arm in a sling, sat watching an old negro mix an enormous quantity of corn-pone. Here the captain’s orders were repeated, and he who had captured the boys ad- ded: “T reckon we’re goin’ to have a tussel with them fellows, Mason, an’ you won’t see the fun.” “I’m always missin’ the good things. Say, have I got to keep my eye on these youngsters all the time?” “Tie ’em up to a tree, if you’re willin’ to run the risk of their gettin’ away, an’ come out with us. If there’s any fightin’ it won’t be more’n two miles from here; but look sharp that the captain don’t see you, or it may make trouble.” An order from one of the lieutenants caused the soldier to join the company, and a few moments later the troop marched quietly out through the woods “Sit down there,” Mason said, gruffly, as he pointed to a small tree standing In the shadow cast by the tent, “and you, Pete, bring me a pe of rope. There’s plenty up near the captain’s quarters. I’m goin’ to tie you,” he added, in a mat- ter-of-fact tone to the boys, “’cause I can’t afford to stay here when there’s plenty of sport near by. If you so much as try to get away Pete will shoot, or I’ll put a bullet into him when we get back.” It was evident that Mason was not a erson whom it would be safe to disobey, or the old colored man moved around right lively, and in a remarkably short space of time the prisoners’ hands were oe behind them and to the trunk of the ree, Neither Tom nor Sam spoke during the operation. They understood that a great mistake had been made; but this was not the time to correct it, and they tried to be patient until the officer commanding the troop could be seen. After threatening Pete with dire pun- ishment if the prisoners even so much as succeeded in loosening their bonds during his absence, Mason hurried away, and when he was at such a distance that it would be impossible to hear the conver- sation, Sam said, angrily: “Tt’s mighty tough to be tied up here like chicken thieves when we’ve done nothing. We only came out to see what the home guard was doing, and three sol- diers pulled us in without rhyme or reason. Somebody will have to answer for it, if things goon in this way very long, for folks with any spirit won't al- low such outrages.” “Now don’t get riled, honey,” Pete re- plied, in a soothing tone. “When Marse Pinckney says a ting mus’ be did, dat set- tles it.” “Who’s Marse Pinckney?” Tom asked, “He’s de captain ob dis yere army, an’ has got a powerful bad temper. I’se bin toddlin’ ’roun’ wid a good many soldiers sence de war dun broke out; but he’s de NEWS. ee wustest. man to rage I eber seen, so don’t [ By the time a partial story of the fight rouse him, honey.” “But I don’t intend to be made a pris-| the day came up, and the fugibives and retreat had been told the ‘officer oner by the men*on my own, side,” Sam | conducted into camp where it appeate cried, passionately, as he struggled in| if an entire army was in repose. vain to remove the bonds, “Tt’s gone bin done, chile, an’ when} had been ordered to guard, an@y Marse Pinckney gits de time to talk it | sisted that Pete should continue can all be fixed, am’ settin’ while don’t ’mount to berry much.” “You’d find out what it amounted to if you couldn’t so much as wink,” “I’se got a idee, honey, kase de. ole man’s been in de same fix more’n once.” “But look here; I want——” Sam was interrupted by the sound of | fire-arms in the distance, and Pete liter- | ally turned gray in the face, as he cried: | «6 ‘ r ‘ ; ry ig igars , De Lawd hab pity on dis miserable | make yer feel a heap better to hab @ | dere a little | them. Mason was close behind those whom i teh “There will be a dead nigger around here if they give us the slip, gruffly, "and it would be a safe to shut both eyes at the same time In consequence of this threat oh darky was very attentive; but Be ne goud care the boys should not suffer fro hunger. “Hat some ob dis yere, honey, kase it Il ole nigger! De las’ time dey went at it| stomach,” he said, as, after skirmishing shootin’ all ober creation de pone an’ dé/ around a few moments, be hande is, he bacon done got spiled, and dis yere batch is boun’ to ga de same way.” CHAPTER II. A DANGEROUS MISSION, d Tom# tin plate heaped high with corm and bacon. re “I don’t believe I want it,” the the plied; but at the same time he t00# proffered food, and the odor soon Prd voked the hunger of both the sad-vise# boy ok oe risoners. WP HAT a spirited engagement was in | P “Now dats mons’rous fine,” the, a att P es not far away the boys!man said, when they had conclute iit (3h), Knew by the sound of rapid firing; hearty meal. “I reckon you sé Jeep <—* but as to what execution was being |! egme to any harm ef yer does ha to 5 or done they hadn’t the faintest idea until a | out ob doors to-night; but I’se nt soldier was brought in on a litter by two! to hard to fin’ # tem of his comrades, and the sight of blood, as | wéll as the.sufferer’s groans, caused them to feel sick at heart. “Tt must be a regular battle,” Sam said, try pow’ful kase——” ted “Pete! Oh!, Pete!” a voice shouts ‘ont “Dar’s Marse Mason, an’ now lo the old darky ™¥U if eB |fur squalls,” in a low tone, and Pete, who was crouch- | shuffling off with the tin plate, a8 ing close behind the prisoners, replied: “Bress yer soul, honey, dat ain’t nuffin to what you'se boun’ to see ef you stays / I'll be after you right smart. wid de soldiers berry long. I’se done had | boys up to the captain’s tent.” fifty ob ’em all cut to pieces layin’ roun’ till it was like as if you couldn’t hear | plied, cheerfully, evidently reliev ; yousesef wink.” “T wonder if there is any chance they | thing more arduous, and to the will come this way?” Tom asked. “Dar ain’t.n6o means ob tellin’ dey are likely to do. mighty bad, an’ a drefful oncertin bis- ness,” The reports of the weapons sounded nearer and nearer. A soldier in pray limped into camp with a bullet in his leg, and sat down be- side the boys to cut it out unaided. Cries of command were heard, mingled with yells and shrieks, which, to ears ex- perienced in such matters, would have be- tokened a hand-to-hand struggle. Then one man, his face pale with fear, and rendered more horrible in appearance by stains of blood, came at full speed, erying: “Look out for yourselves! big force crossing the river!” The man with the bullet in his leg yelled at him for a coward, and before the words were fairly uttered half a dozen soldiers arrived with the same news. * Finally Mason appeared in sight. A portion of the bandage from his wounded arm had been used to tie up an additional wound on his head, and he shouted to Pete: “Take them boys an’ light out! The captain’s orders were that they should be held, an’ I’ll make it hot for you if both are not carried to the main camp.” An instant later the greater portion of the company burst into view, all fighting desperately, and a bullet whistled past within an inch of Sam's head. “Hurry up and untie these ropes,” he cried, and Tom added: “Be quick about it, or you'll lose your prisoners, for the Federal forces. are com- ing this way mighty fast.” This last remark caused the old man to move more rapidly; but he was in such a condition of fear and bewilderment that very little was accomplished in the way of unloosening the bonds, Now the struggle could be plainly seen, and the men in gray were disputing every inch of the way as the home guard, wit a large reinforcement, was pressing them back directly through the encampment. The boys had good cause for fear. The bullets were whistling in every direction, and before Pete had sufficiené control of his nerves -to cut the ropes, a man was shot down within a dozen yards of where they were standing. fter what seemed like a very long time the old darky managed to sever the bonds, and then he and the prisoners ran at full speed toward the higher ground, for to proceed in the direction of the river would have been simply to plunge into the midst of the desperate fight. In the retreat they were joined by such of the wounded as could use their legs, and prisoners and captors alike continued on panic stricken, taking no heed of the course until the foremost were brought to a standstill by the cry: “Halt! Who goes there?” The challenge had come from a sentinel There is a who remained concealed by the bushes | until one of the party advanced to ex- plain why he could not give the counter- sign, and then he came into view, a shout of joy bursting from the lips of all as the uniform of gray was seen, wha’ | Dis yere war am a | raged in very important work. “Here! None of that! No skul Brin » Pete te ” Pew bee any’ prisonet, | he added in a lower tone: “I ‘spear Jon gwine to be sent home, so les’ m0 right lively.” f sone Dt Tom and Sam forgot their fatley be the welcome belief that they Wet? py tbe in’ of a the “T’se er comin’, Marse Mason, cause he had not been summone allowed to depart, and, conducté ace, '2 old man, they walked at a rapid Phorin8 a tent where several officers wer over a map. en’ Pete woatd have left them af tard trance; but Mason pushed him Oe as he said: te “You are wanted, too, so fall rhe can’ As the three stood just inside Proubled vas flap of the tent, the graves he sum | faces of the officers told that tipat the mons had not been given simply ed, and prisoners might be formally rele ; old Pete looked seriously distur ‘well! “You boys know the river pre y A the captain asked, abruptly. a “Yes, sir,” Tom replied. been!” , “How far down have you evel © snes. “To Owensborough two or three | pall: The men consulted together of tbe” whispers, and Sam heard one say: al tha® “They'll get nearer to the genetne i any of the soldiers could, and 12 eaken® of an accident we shal] not have W 4 our force.” i the 2% Then the captain, turning to again, said sternly: p “You were captured while around the camp, and a few me fore the soldiers discovered you guard from Madison had bee? ee a portion of our force was cone trial before the most partial eind tial could only result in your ‘ end tenced to die as spies; but we ursel 0 give you achance of redeeming y that gill It is of the utmost importance’ Ww send a message to a certain P? ” ou.carry it?” 1¥s on ws Yes, ir,” Sam replied, promhigh at the aeaee time Tom decline a cot hatically. din Pl“T willdo: nothing toward aid! r cause.” : “Very well,” the captain a ing Tom squarely in the face. be tried as a spy, and I prop? the arrest of your grandfather tor.” a “But he had nothing to © ¢h .. por am ee coming here, and believ ae for that“ to ook ae say “We have only your wo rr Did such evidence won't save ou Be the as “Don’t hold out ergin WP BigckP ly darky whispered. “Mare quick, ob gwine to git roused mighty fur 9) den dar’s boun’ to be trouble got? us.” of + “How far do you want us to 8 asked. ad “ About an hundred miles. 0 ; ” is “I’ve got a good boat. nere oat? “We will provide ones fOF formulas intenion of allowing you £0 his con pet? with any person outside 0 seve ‘ner? ; ty before leaving. I propose fuses: pol with you; hut if your friend re pare D j | is nothing left for me but, © od to headquarters for trial. “Don't stay on .yer ear, man whispered again te pil when Pinckney’s de berry de were fy ith Pe. ne e old 0: > s ; but Ritha, Ord ete syssed, an’ all your folks is boun’ to uffer ef he gits roused.” i °m was in a most painful position. S € knew that by refusing, his grandfather sad am, as well as himself, would be ‘ id to suffer, and it was doubtful if he ak aid the Union cause in the slight- P y his present course. h erhaps the captain understood from one Paession on the boy’s face that he ha already hesitating, for he said to son ; wake the prisoners to the guard tent, leave them alone. In an hour I will shale. to send the message, and they ter? have until then to consider the mat- — Soldier obeyed, speaking not a word ilthey were in front of the designated Place, when he said: you aoe have any desire to live I advise such ° as the captain proposes, for in coun tmes as these a human life don’t em, thrusting th hly insid » thrusting them roughly inside, he closed the fan. but the sound of his nor eet footsteps told that they were to be Jeft unguarded. at are you going to do?” Sam replie? when they were alone, and Tom Plied with a sigh: aid ish I knew the proper course. To fighti © cause against which my father is uy NS Seems cowardly.” ; Stan admit that; but under the circum- ee “es I can’t understand how the Union €S will be benefitted, and it is certain mat your grandfather and I shall suffer ‘th you.” alt the conditions were reversed would Work pee to carry a message that might fe 1arm to your friends? Saiq hesitated an instant, and then Brea’ Speaking very slowly as if to give 4; “© emphasis to his words: Ohes pink I would. If we were the only have ey could find to send you might it & Detter reason for holding out; but Who = there are two or three hundred Yo 4n run down the river as well as a and '¥ ” et lL agree will you help me carry that When? into the Union lines instead of ing ~ whey want to send it?” he asked, WN per a on’t think I can. Then I should itor, indeed, while you would be Performing an act which I suppose by the gitin® of war would be looked upon as ve tate. If, however, you want to Nothin” the slip at Louisville, I'll do and Te to prevent it. In this thing you Neve, gy different ideas; but we shall fight between ourselves.” Was surprised at the manly stand Sam took. Up to this moment he Soked upon him simply as a good- or Careless fellow, whose own pleas- Of g,.-°mfort would take the precedence Alizg ®rything else, and he began to re- Promisor’ he had no right to exact any Ries 80,” he said, after a pause. “Of What 7 '% this journey you are doing Seem, ot believe is right, while to me it that th ifferent: ; but I give fair warning bie.» 2° tables shall be turned, if possi- “ And I wi ; ] thy thing that the &nemy €n Sam - try to prevent your doing might give information to who are your friends.” And ha Der dded quickly, “But whatever oth te youand I are to feel toward each Tom he same as ever.” at Clasped his companion’s hand; in po le same moment he resolved to twa one of the message provided riting. Hte n tour had not elapsed when Mason hers + 1@ tent and informed the pris- om 2 the captain had sent for them. Ont Spe, €pped toward the entrauce with- CUrrin ‘aking, for the danger he was in- despatene thus attempting to steal the th €S oppressed him to such a de- d @t speech was almost impossible, de.ty c#ptain Pinckney asked if he Simp}, 'ded_ to carry the’ message he “be, Modded his head. mE Make the mistake of thinking thee US the slip after leaving PN yon. © Officer said, sternly. “While t Watehi > down the river soldiers will hej, “Xing from the Kentucky side, and ther ny €rs are to shoot every one if ha is €mber of the party speaks more Son, | @bsolutely necessary to any per- Meat Buard is to accompany you where Alison) some little distance below oe and I earnestly recommend, for ty '8Sion N safety, that you perform the Wnin faithfully. Mason,” he added, 0 the soldier, “take the pris- on? and send Pete here.” ‘ YS were led a short distance from q eitha and there halted with a soldier ent, Side of them, while the old ered the captain’s quarters. (TO BE CONTINUED.) 0 th Hy Pia Young re tdieth revenge keepeth his own | g Or ’ : Member 9, ancge of another’s feelings, re- |onlv caused the animal to wince anc “KNOW THYSELF.” ——— BY MRS. M. A. KIDDER, | seateritioney py ome “Know thyself,” ’tis much more needful Than to know thy bosom triend ; Study well thy precious being, That thou maysbt thine errors mend. Study all the laws that bind thee To this curious lle of thine— To the form and to the spirit, Halt of earth, and halt divine, Know thyself ’twill benefit thee More than languages and tongues— Study nerves, and veins, and arteries, Beating heart and breathing lungs. Know thy mind, and thought, and spirit, Know thy gifts in mercy given, Know thyself and this will fit thee For this checkered world or heaven, — The Young Duck Hunters, By W. B. LAWSON. _ > (“THE YounG Duck HUNTERS” was commenced in No. 19. Agents.] ee ora CHAPTER XXIX, A BLACK INTRUDER, (m5 aT RED got out the sail and spread it, , a8 there was a favorable breeze, tacking when the wind was dead ahead. It was better than hand- ling the oars at any rate. They made fair time, and about ten o’clock came to land within a stone’s throw of the cabin. The sneak boat was fastened to a stake in the creek, and all of them landed, ad- vancing in the direction of the small house. “Look!” exclaimed Fred, suddenly, “I declare if some one hasn’t been in there —our cabin door is open wide.” “Sure enough!” echoed Ned. “Listen !” A rattling sound was heard. “Jove! whoever it is he’s in there now!” laughed the officer. “Hark! hear the tin pans falling. I reckon he’s in the culinary department.” The two boys looked at each other. One thought was in the mind of each— could it be the mad hermit searching for the papers Ned had taken from the ruins where he made his headquarters? that were so, why might they not at least attempt his capture? The idea was communicated to McDon- ald, who heartily approved of it, since his mission to the great Currituck duck marsh had been to accomplish this same thing. They arranged their plans speedily. Each was to advance upon the house from a different direction, and one, creeping up behind the door, it might be slammed shut. So they set about doing this. Each advanced upon the cabin, the racket had grown more tremendous within, as though some one were danc- ing a war-dance. What could it all mean? Judging from the clatter of pans and the tremendous din, the hermit must be tearing the inside of the cabin to pieces in his endeavor to discover the hidden papers. Now they were close upon the walls. Ned was nearest the door. He sprang forward, shut it with a bang, throwing his weight Poets it, but at that instant some heavy body struck the door on the.other side, hurling it open again, and sending Ned head over heels some yards away. As he picked himself up he was amazed to hear the report of Fred’s double barrel, followed by a tremendous roar of rage. Looking up he saw a black bear “scud- ding away under bare poles,” as Fred ex- pressed it afterward, one foot caught in a steel rat-trap they had left set in their pantry for a stray rodent that had given them some worry. This told the story. Bruin had come upon the erp tet deserted cabin, and smelling good things inside had entered. The boys never could understand how he got the door open, but it only had a latch, and, perhaps, ac- cident helped the animal in this instance. At any rate, he had created havoc among the various articles in the culinary department by his energetic efforts to shake off the rat-trap that clung to his paw so persistently. $ Bears were really an unknown quantity in this region, and it was hard to be- lieve such a black thief had been in their cabin, but there he was, hastening into hima good turn, ) 3 the | trouble than he bad met with in remoy- the dense undergrowth with all eagerness fright could enforce, Again Fred fired, but his duck_ shot ten his scamper. Back numbers can be obtained of all News GOOD NEWS. a remembered that his gun held double *s. Staggering to his feet he looked around for the Greener, which was lying near by. When he picked it up, the bear was just at the edge of the copse, and he had only time to fire twice in rapid succes- sion. Then Bruin vanished. “Come,” said Fred, “we ought to get that chap. Think of the meat on him—I do enjoy a bear steak as much as any- thing I know. Wait—I’ve some buckshot shells in the cabin.” He darted in. A minute later he once. more appeared, and handed Ned several shells. “You can depend on those, old fellow. I have as many more—load up at once.” “Did he do much damage?” asked McDonald. Fred laughed, and then looked solemn. “Well, you’d think a cyclone had struck the inside of that shanty, that’s all. Come on.” The three hastened to the spot where Bruin had last been seen, to take up the trail. The boys were determined the ani- mal should pay dearly for the damage he had done in the old house, and at the same time they were not averse to laying in a supply of bear meat that would prove a welcome addition to their larder. Since Bruin had chosen to investigate the secrets of their cupboard: they be- | j}ant it might be. lieved it would be good policy to transfer his choice portions there. When they reached the bushes Fred bent down to examine the track made by the retreating animal, and as he did so he gave utterance to an exclamation of satisfaction. “Blood spots! That tells the story, Ned; | some of your double B.’s cut him up| badly. Unless I’m mightily mistaken, he’s our bear.” Ned was excited at the thought, for he had never come across such game _ before —a panther and a black bear inside of | twelve hours—it was almost beyond be- | 435 Here a scene of devastation met their eyes.. Fred had certainly not over-rated the case when he said it looked as though a cyclone had struck the interior of the cabin. It took them some time to get things in decent shape again, but very little was lost, and the at steaks more than paid up for this. It was high noon before everything was done, and time for dinner, so they tried some of the bear steaks, to find them palatable. Circumstances alter cases, and when men are in the woods they raven- ously devour that at which they would turn up their noses at home. McDonald was thinking how he should bring about the meeting he desired. Geraldine Hawley and Ned must come together and the truth be known. What- ever the singular story of the past, it would prove that these two were bound by sacred ties. And the madman! Well, McDonald shrugged his shoulders when he thought of him, for he did not like the task of capturing a man out of his mind, and be- sides, if what he suspected was the truth, it would be better to let Julian Hawley roam the swamps, crazed as he was, than to bring him back to his senses only to face the world. Still, the task was his, and this man generally accomplished whatever duty came in his way, no matter how unpleas- Even while he ate he was planning how he could bring the actors in this singular play together. What connection the yachtsman had with the case was as yet a mere matter for conjecture, but McDonald was posi- tive that Richards did not desire to see the boy and his mother reunited, hence he must have guessed the truth with re- spect to Ned, and desired an interview so that he might corroborate the facts. Ned himself had not beev favorably im- pressed with the man; but then he was so much taken up with the lady when he lief, and no one near Currituck marsh | heard her name that he could not waste would believe the story unless it was | time with the other. proven. Fred was already hot in pursuit, and they could only ‘follow suit—the bear could not be far away, wounded, and crippled by the trap that clung so per- sistently to his paw. Before they had been on the trail five minutes Fred raised his hand warningly. “T think the animal is in yonder clump of brush,” he said, in a low tone. A growl proved his words true—the wounded anc the camp had turned at bay, and meant to retreat no farther—here he would con- quer or die. CHAPTER XXX. OFF FOR THE SEAT OF WAR. AR UR two young duck hunters had | €) their guns ready for Mr. Bruin, | but he seemed too wise to rush | “A” out, nor could they see to fire into the brush, although the animal kept up a continual growling. McDonald had drawn his revolver, de- siring to have a hand in the sport. less given an especial invitation, he now proposed to accomplish that result. “Are you ready, boys, to give him a warm reception?” he asked. They replied in the affirmative. “Then here goes—take care.” With that the detective leveled his re- volver in the direction whence the growl- ing proceeded, and fired several shots in rapid succession. The result justified his expectations, for the black bear, enraged at what was | | winter when out after ducks. probably adding insult to injury, left his refuge, and made a mad rush for the party. Then came a horrible roar, as both guns were discharged simultaneously. Poor Bruin came no farther, but fell in a heap just a dozen feet from their stand —the buckshot shells had proven too much for him. é “Hurrah!” shouted Fred, waving his canvas hat in triumph, “that’s the first bear any one has seen around Currituck for years, I warrant, and to think we bagged him.” Ned said nothing. He rather thought the bear had had a rough time of it, taken in all, and was a little sorry that he had a hand in the slaughter; but it meant provisions for them, and after all what else was a bear good for, save to provide steaks at the camp-fire of hungry hunters. Fred set to work ontheanimal. He had never taken the skin from a bear, but his experience with smaller animals served and he found no more ing the pelt of Ned’s panther. Then some of the meat was secured, 1 has-'and the whole amount they had selected learried to the cabin, wrapped up in the Ned collected his scattered thoughts | the skin. See- | ing that the bear would not come out un- | So McDonald had to figure the matter out himself, and endeavor to arrange it that all of them might meet. He knew where the yacht would be lying. In the mouth of the creek, up which our boys had taken their sneak boat in order to visit the ruins, where | they had met with their adventure. | | : THE TREASURE So, when the meal had been over some time, he made a proposition to the others. It startled Ned, but Fred saw what sadly harassed intruder of | McDonald’s object was, and readily con- sented, so that Ned, finding the matter already decided two to one, made no ob- jections. This proposition was nothing more nor less than that they should go to the ruins, lie in wait, and trap the hermit. When this had been done McDonald believed he could bring about the meeting he desired, when all mysteries would be cleared up. Having decided to make the venture they talked over the plan, and numerous little things were suggested and dis- cussed, Then, about the middle of the after- noon, having made all needful prepara- tions, they left the cabin, this time secur- ing the door. The sneak boat came into use again and gallantly breasted the waves on the Sound, riding like a duck where another boat would have dipped. deeply and proved very wet. Et Sg This singular boat bas no equal in its way, being cut away entirely in front, having no stem. Duck hunters at Barne- gat were the inventors of this model, and the main object of its singular formation was to drag it easily up on the ice in It is steady as a rock when one is in- side, but treacherous as an army mule to the man who dares place a foot on its sloping deck, slipping out from under him like a toboggan on a slide. Being provided with high row locks, that can | be lowered at will, it is used for rowing, but carries a small sail, and can ride al- most any sea that inland waters can kick up, like a frightened duck. Such was the boat Fred doted on, and from which he derived his name of Sneak-Box Fred. CHAPTER XXXTI. TROVE OF THE OLD BUC- CANEERS. “DAHEIR passage was not of very long th duration, for the cedar boat made YI) quick time, darting over the waves, “> now tacking and finally shooting off on along starboard leg that would bring her very near her destination. As they came close to the beach Fred said: ; “Tf we choose we can run up into yon- der little cove, which will afford us an elegant harbor, or, by making a short le to windward, reach the main creek an go up it as before.” 436 McDonald understood the situation. “T think we had better put in here. The yacht is in the creek, and we do not want to see them just yet—that is, if you are both agreeable.” The boys liked their new friend exceed- ingly well, and were ready to do any- thing he considered best, sono word of protest was raised. ; In a very short time they were in the cove, and had drawn the boat up on the sand out of the reach of the waves. Then they proceeded through the scrub and dead grass, heading in as direct a line as they could for the ruins, It was near the close of day. At this time of year night comes very soon, and dawn opens late, so that al- ready the shades of the coming darkness could be seen. Fred acted as guide, for the sailor lad had a thorough knowledge of all that makes a woodsman, and no one could ever lose him while he had his senses about him. : They struck the ruins as straight as.a plummet. Mr. McDonald was astonished at the power displayed by the young fel- low, and chuckled as he thought of his first estimate of Fred. All seemed quiet as death. If the mad hermit was around there was no sign of him here, and the trio, without hesitation, advanced upon the ruins. Entering, they stopped to listen. The murmur of water near by, the rustling of dead leaves on the stunted oaks, the quacking of some lone drake up the creek —these were the only sounds they heard. Once more they moved forward. When they had gone through the ruins and found no sign of the hermit McDon- ald said he would hunt up the yacht and have a talk with the lady in whose em- ploy he was. Left alone, the young duck hunters talked of the strange matters surround- ing them. Finally Fred spoke of the treasure chest, and this gave Ned a start. “T wonder is it where I put it?” “Why not see?” Fred had mentioned the matter with the distinct purpose of having Ned show his find, and the other did not see his mo- tive. “Come with me.” “Don’t care if I do.” “We will want a light down there—it’s hard enough to see in the day-time, let alone at dusk.” Fred picked up a stick of wood. “This will do, I reckon—hold on, didn’t I see our friend carry something from the boat? He put it in a corner here—yes, our lantern, sure enough.” “Hureka !” It was a great find for them under the circumstances, and in a dozen seconds Fred had the little illuminator in full lay. A torch might be well enough in its way when nothing better could be gotten, but for genuine comfort and util- ity they would take the modern lantern every time. Together the boys descended to the underground place where Ned had met his adventure. It was all fresh in his mind, the dis- covery of the chest, the surprise given him by the hermit, his being shut in the cellar—then came the great tunnel act through the soft sand, and, finally. the assault of the madman and his rescue by friends. As long as he lived he would never for- get that series of events—they were stamped upon his mind as by fire. Then, too, he had discovered that the hermit was his own father, and that had much to do with his remembering the oc- casion. Would they find the treasure chest safe? He had come into the cellar again and secreted it, more with the idea of prevent- ing McDonald from seeing it than be- cause he desired to possess it, for the aw- ful thought had come to him that this officer of the law was after his father to arrest him, and that this treasure was the evidence of his crime. At the present time he had come to be- lieve differently, and that was one reason why he was taking his friend down to show him his discovery. The sand which he had dislodged in making his escape from the cellar was still piled up just as he had left it. There was the opening, too. Without hesitating Ned bent down and began to brush away the damp sand, using his hands as scoops in order to ac- complish this. Fred watched him curiously, holding the lantern meanwhile,so he could work. Presently Ned uncovered the lid of what seemed to be a little chest. Then he caught hold and drew it out. It was, indeed, a curiosity, being made of some peculiar wood unknown to either of them, but which seemed to have re- sisted the ravage; of time in a marvelous manner, since the bands of iron or steel were rusted to skeleton thinness. Fred saw ata glance that this was a strong box made many years ago. It had GooDp an ancient look about it, and he could easily imagine he was looking at a curi- osity on exhibition in the Natural His- a} Museum in New York. ed, anxious to show him what lay within, threw back the lid, which fell off, so weak had the hinges become in time. : A strange sight mef their eyes. The little chest was filled with gold pieces, and in one corner lay a couple of handfuls of sparkling gems, roughly cut, but just as brilliant as the day, perhaps two hun- dred years before, when they had been placed in this strong box by the hand of the buccaneer chieftain. Fred took up one of the gold pieces and saw it was of English make, nearly two centuries back, although most of the coin was Spanish. This told the story of the strong box. CHAPTER XXXII. AMONG THE RUINS. O doubt existed in their minds but that this treasure had once been on board one of the old piratical worthies’ vessels, of which they had read in the early history of our coun- ry. At that time our seas, particularly the gulf and south Atlantic coast, was in- fested by a flock of human vultures, prey- ing upon commerce, and especially lying in wait, like spiders in their web, for the rich galleons sailing from the mines of Mexico for Spain. There could be no question but that more thau one crime had been done ere this treasure had been thus accumulated. The strangest thing, in the estimation of the boys, was how the chest came here —where had it been during these long cycles of time; at the bottom of the sea, or buried in the sand along the shore of Currituck, and how came the mad hermit to discover it? These were questions they might never have answered, and hence they could only surmise. Fred was satisfied with the glimpse he had had of the strange chest, and he now advised his friend to once more cover it up with the sand. When their mission to the old ruin had been accomplished they might return and unearth it. Meanwhile no one would sus- pect its presence. So they retraced their steps as they had come, and. reached the spot where Mc- Donald had left them, and where he would expect to find them, Fred immediately blew out the lantern, for if the mad hermit, in approaching his home, saw a light there, he would be apt to sheer off. They could not be too cau- tious in dealing with a man of his shrewdness. The time passed away. At length they began to look for Mc- Donald’s return, for he surely must have reached the yacht and come back in an hour. The creek was near by, and Fred’s quick ear caught the sound of oars. Some one was undoubtedly coming, but whether friend or foe they could not say. It might be McDonald, and again there was a chance of its proving the crazy her- mit of the swamp. They listened intently. The sounds drew nearer, as though the boat was coming up the creek, and this would seem to indicate that it was from the yacht, if, as McDonald said, that sraft was anchored below. Then the sounds suddenly ceased. In their place came low whispering. “Steady now—here we are,” said a voice that they took to be Mr. McDonald’s. Who was with him? Some people from the yacht? Ned held his breath and gripped the arm of his companion almost fiercely. “Tt is she—my mother,” he gasped in a whisper, for he had heard McDonald say: “Have no fear, madam—trust all to me, and I assure you the result will please you.” It was evident that McDonald was bringing the lady ashore with a distinct purpose in view, and although the boys could not fathom his design they were confident that it was a good one. Ned could only with great difficulty re- strain his feelings and -remain cool. He knew that the hour he had dreamed. of and prayed for in times gone by was at hand, and his heart was full of thanks- giving. The whispering ceased. All became quiet again, and the ripple of the water or the rustle of the dead leaves still clinging to the scrub oaks were the only sounds heard. There was no doubt considerable worry connected with this venture on the part of the officer. He was depending toa great extent upon the coming of the mad hermit to the ruins, It seemed like leaning on a reed to trust to such a chance, but possibly McDonald had some reason of his own for believing NEWS. this—he had a way of picking up infor- mation that ordinary people could not understand. Our young duck hunters were begin- ning to grow impatient, when finally they heard a sound—some one was ap- proaching. Fred whispered a word of caution in his companion’s ear, for Ned seemed to be so impatient that he was for meeting the new comer half-way. It was well Fred was so long headed, as subsequent events proved. The unknown party came to a pause not far away from them, and they heard a match being struck. Then a light flared up. Ned caught his breath. It was the mad hermit himself. There he stood, not more than ten feet away from them, and had he looked in that direction he must surely have seen them. Just then, however, the hermit seemed to be occupied with something he held in his hand. He scrutinized it closely. shook his head, and then dropped the match, after which they heard him moy- ing away. Ned breathed again. He had feared lest the other should dis- cover their presence, and Mr. McDonald’s plans be disturbed. “Did you notice his face, Fred?” eagerly. “No, what of it?” “Tt did not look as wild as before. In fact, } did not seem to have any fear of it. Can it be possible he is recovering his mind ?” “TI don’t know, but the shock our friend is preparing for him will do_ more toward bringing about such a result than any- thing else.” “What was he doing?” “Seeing the time.” “You don’t mean it, Fred?” “Well, he had a watch in his hand, ie noticed how eagerly he looked at it.” “Can a crazy man tell time?” “There, you’ve got me, but I shouldn’t think a man in the condition he has shown would be capable of it.” “Then I believe there is hope, Fred, mind.” “T hopeso. Here comes Mr. McDonald.” —_—__—_+- ee _____ for turtles, and the islanders are experts ,at capturing the clumsy There are several curious ways of cap- turing them. When lying asleep on the approach, its crew seize the animal, and tumble him aboard “before he knows for otherwise he would climb out and swamp the boat in short order. hind the sleeping creature, spring on the back of his shell, and hold on in such a that my father. is recovering his lost (LO BE CONTINUED.) A HE South Sea Islands are the place i) creatures. water in the sun, a canoe will silently where he is.” He is turned on his back, A native will alsoswim up quietly be- way that he cannot dive. Having no idea of escaping in any other way, he can be steered whithersoever his captor chooses. Considerable agility and nerve are neces- sary in accomplishing this feat, for if the man should miss his leap and fall back into the water he is liable to be danger- ously cut by the animal’s flippers. An expert person, or one who wished to have some fun with the turtle, might grasp him by the tail. The turtle has his idea of a joke, too, which is instantly to shut his tail close up to his body, whereby the man’s hand is held fast as in a vise, and then dive with him to the bottom of the sea. ; Most of the turtles, however, are cap- tured on the beaches, whither the females land to lay their eggs, and the males ac- COnPaRY. them out of gallantry, or to keep guard. The eggs are laid in a perpendicular cavity about a yard deep, at the bottom of a great circular excavation, which the female scrapes by whirling round’ like a fly with its wings singed, and violently ssivinae its flippers. When surprised, the turtle offers no re- sistance, but makes off at a pace surpris- ingly rapid in so clumsy an animal, and which a good runner can hardly keep up with in the sand. To turn a turtle weighing four hundred pounds on its back, and thus capture it while it is seuttling through deep sand, requires more knack than strength. A turtle’s progress on land is by a series of wriggling jerks from side to side, and the fisher, taking advantage of the moment when it starts away from him, overturns it with ease. The young are hatched in a month, making their appearance when about the size of a large limpet, and are prepared to begin life on their own hook at once, which they do by rushing for the sea as rapidly as possible. Many of them never reach it, however, being caught by birds, if it be day, and by land-crabs at night. . ed A DRAWING CAMERA. ert, —< VERY boy and girl knows what -4) camera-obscura is. The baer ‘G4 grapher uses a camera in taking = your picture, and large cameras, the shape of a house, may be seen ab 1@ in the country and in city parks. You gs inside, and when the door is closed, @@ theiroom dark, you see a colored pictur? thrown on the white table, and represe? ing the scenery, people, and houses on side. Artists use camera-obscuras in M4 ing pictures of scenery or buildings; oe for boys and girls who can use a pencil : tracing, nothing is more delightful fame toown asmall camera that will sh? pictures of men, horses, or houses, ere a way as to make it easy to copy We do not need a big camera, * tle enough to hold a dozen people. A lit box that you can carry under your ant will answer, and we can easily make ourselves. t Select some small pieces of wood abe one-quarter inch thick (old cigar mn will answer), and of these make 4 nine inches long, five and one-half 1 wide, and three and one-half inches by the outside measurement: securely together, and then ma n covers, one five inches long by’ five & one-half inches wide; the other fout ii five and one-half inches. Place thes? to- to lid on the table, and fasten, them i, gether with a strip of cloth an li glue or paste. This will answé hinge, so that the smaller cover WU up or down. Next, at the glaziers By piece of ground glass five inches 1008 «7 four inches wide. At any picture OF five ror store get a piece of looking-glas® 4,, inches long and four and one-half wo At the optician’s we can then buy; ing twenty-five cents, a small fy in glass about one and one-hal diameter. At the tinman’s we cat made a tin tube about three and one hb inches long and one and one-half a in diameter, or just as large as our ning nifying-glass. These are all the t to we want, and the whole cost ought ne exceed fifty cents. pox Now to put them together in ‘er the First fasten the glass into the end © ne tin tube, or if you cannot do this, 8° yi. tin man to put it in. This done, TU ide tle blacking or black paint over the a cut of the tube, and in one end of the pa fit a round hole so that the tin tube ni pe into it snugly, but not so tight (46 jook- wedged in fast. Then take the bit of pack ing-glass and set it up against the of the box opposite the tin tube. Place one end within a quarter % the . inch of the top of the box, an 4 other end rest on the bottom. Loe tube into the mirror, and if you see the it i8 exactly in the middle of the glas® 4 to just right. Tack little strips 0 ‘wo jrror the sides and bottom to keep the ™ of in place, and then take the ples the ground glass, and resting the edge ere! upper edge of the mirror, hang it U 0 in the box just under the upper edge: tack do this, mark where it comes 0" 11 ¢¢, = strips of wood under it to keep it in P pos Now lay the hinged cover over ™ oan with the smallest part over the & glass, and we may try the machiv®. ip: Set the box on the table before ,® othe! dow, draw down the curtains of (2° (over windows, and on lifting the hing® the you ree see a colored pie ef S§ ss i Ww y ‘ ore glass representing te the Piette 8 e seen out the window. e appears confused or indistinct, it will tin tube in or out of the box, a? phis is become quite clear and plall. ct be called adjusting the focus, and one at done each time we point the cam new scenes or objects. Nothing more remains save t cover down, leaving the hinged Pa over the glass, and to cover the bo cloth or paper to make it tight 2? To draw pictures with this camer in the window before the horse. building, or other object you Wi an copy, adjust the focus, lift fhe Cove? ¢he with a pencil trace the pictur ——,. you ground glass. If the picture is d1™ pood wish to draw out of doors, ma “1 pang ib or screen of thick, dark paper 4? he righ before your face to shut ou yi till, from the front and sides, OY, bet throw 8 do as the photographer does— 47, you dark cloth over your head whi work. When the drawing is d camera round to the light, oT to tack a the one take, hood from your head, and there we ghia with Ke tracing paper it will be very @ Tenis done acopy of it at your leisure. jass away we can rub the picture on the & a with a damp sponge and try og aw Boys and girls who like to oc 1 find such a camera as this vast lt ink and instructive. Should you aes size too small, you can make the same plan, except that % and particularly the magnify ing-6 cost much more, the picture on the glass, and as x a ee, eRe oe oe. 3 aged GOOD tite of quick-silver and several pounds of gold l AN FA Mi dust, although where the latter came j from no one knew, but it was reported that the merchants of the Pueblo Los Angeles traded for it with the oon oa j in j and the latter would not reveal the source California lll the Years 1843 Ad ai Ah, | whence it came. There may be rich mines eit 2 ep ; in the southern part of aeons = all we know to the contrary, and perhaps eee ULTAM my es wpe | Some day the old Indians will reveal Ushrangers 1 eerDh, at htateed a RT their location, and then there will be ‘ * x vers 4 pes e dite in the Hast Indies,” “A Slaver's Aaven- | 400ther rush of gold-hunters, a tumult, “ures,” “Running the Blockade,” “A Whale-| and neglect of agriculture for a season or man’s Adventures,’ The Belle of Australia,” | two. Since this was written I have seen ete., statements that gold has been found near OR, Pia Los Angeles, and in paying quantities. H “OX Lanp aw. hee ai The captain had been invited to spen Bickmumbers can ieatiainal Of all Nowe Auetitey: *\the Fourth of J uly at the Pueblo. Mr. bogs Foster procured a horse for him, and we 0 ad 2 rowed him ashore on the afternoon of the HAPTER IX.— (Continued. ) 3d. He was got up in gay style, but, for FS a wonder, did not wear his white beaver URING the next afternoon two | hat. That he left on board, in charge of fat, good-natured priests, from/| the steward. He told Mr. Prentice to Some distant Mission came on| celebrate the day in a becoming manner, Tema; Oard to do a little trading, and and to fire a salute of thirteen guns morn- Wanter until about sundown. ‘They | ing and evening, and to give the men eatin £0 on shore just as we were! plum duff, and half a bottle of Boston toma Supper. Although it is not cus-|sherry for each person, except the boys, whi] TY to disturb a crew at their meals, | who were not supposed to care for such . delay ,t port, and even an admiral will | stuff. I would not at the present time, hip! iS departure from a line-of-battle | but a glass of wine was not unappreciated they “ther than bother the men while | in those days. Rent, Me Pete: yet, as the case was ur-| _No sooner was the captain out of the we With rentice turned us up, and sent | Ship than all work was suspended, except the holy fathers. sweeping down the decks. Jones and We Very careful,” the mate said, just | Scotch Jack were employed making car- Wet,” Shoved off. “Don’t let them get a NEWS. 437 arare thing to find in these degenerate sleep, while getting the range of the days, I had every confidence that the; fowl, I did not think they were in much money would be forthcoming on demand. | danger. The result justified my opinion, “Dat is good,” Lewey said, in a cheer- | for, when Jones applied a red-hot poker ful tone. “Now you by me be guided. to the priming, the gun kicked so badly Ve goes home; you gets de money, you that the old sailor tumbled backward, buys a schooner, von vot sails berry fast.!and brought the iron in contact with Den ve arrives out here, ve ax all de nice! Fred’s nose, and there wasa smell of young senoritas to come on board for| burning flesh, and a large variety of dinner. You see?” Dutch oaths, mingled with choice Eng-. “Yes, I see all that. But goon.” lish expressions, hardly suitable for the “Den ve sends a party on shore, and |refining influences of a drawing-room steals von priest.” and innocent young ladies. “What do you want of a priest?” I| The shot did not strike within ten asked, astonished at his programme, 4 | fathoms of the pelicans, which Jones ex- wild and visionary one, it seemed to me. | plained by saying that there was an aw- “To marry us. ou take de von dat you ful sea on, when, in fact, it was quite is spoons on, and I takes some udder, and smooth, and he offered to fight the -man den ve sails avay, and becomes pirates of | who laughed at his failure. The mate de Spanish Main, and ve make everybody | could only pacify the old salt by letting tremble ven ve frown.” | him have another chance, and then every I indignantly repudiated his plan as’ one said that the second shot was the best being too dangerous. Besides, I did not they had ever seen, and that at least two think that a pirate’s life was well calcu- | fowl were killed, although the truth of lated to win a young lady’s respect, and, | the matter was the pelicans were not in- much to Lewey’s disgust, I would hear |jured in the least. But Jones declared no more on the subject. |that he ought to have another bottle of I never saw a boy that had such a de-' gin for his good aim, and intimated that sire to be a pirate as that French lad, and he was a full-blooded Englishman, and et he was gifted with rather a tender could lick the life out of any Dane or 1eart, and when he had drank’a glass of ; Yankee on board, the first threat being wine always had a desire to kiss some- | intended for Charley, and the latter for body, male or female, and to swear eter- | no one in particular, for we had no good nal friendship. | American sailors in the forecastle. The next morning we washed down the! No one accepting the challenge, Scotch decks, and at eight o’clock trimmed the | Jack and Jones got into an argument ship with flags, fore and aft, and fired about sending up spars, and blows would Ulleq swered in the usual manner, and arts ap ores but there was anger in our a a ee Cold bath © € unnecessary labor, and the ce eae ms a h hat we were t eiv he Tare the night. ere to receive at that the role the gig as straight through Wettin. 28 possible, and had no idea of € priests, but the heavy oar ra from my hand, and the and o along the beach on its beam-end, and, Whtber tumbled on and crushed us, “YES, a €n I rubbed the sand from my Padres nd spit out the salt water, the thei, « Vere being rolled on the shore, hats Onpents drenched, ar.d their large haste Mg in various directions. fathe ned to the assistance of the holy &nd shiping helped them on their feet, but the ng the water from their cassocks, Utteneg $.0US men were not grateful, and While th ard words that hurt my feelings, one of the tmpudent Lewey rushed toward “Hol fe Wet priests, and said: Need it) gather, give me your blessing? I | Wer 4’ °F Lhas not been to church for | Shoy) Year, and I fears for my soul if I d die,’ v. te, Unt, you imp of Satan,” roared the | broug Look at me all soaking wet pout pour accursed carelessness.” qed appre, ,Other priest was a more jolly Nile, ag Liative man. He managed to P ay My Son .°xtended his hand, and said: @ eg take my blessing, but it costs Tidgeg fBs to give it,” and the twain gam, ard the town, dragging their have been exchanged if Mr. Prentice had Zz : ss not interfered, and given all hands one ts a 48 more glass of gin. Then Jones sat down a Ee SES ES FY on the windlass, and cried because he x a NSS xe could not go home and see his mother, : and afterward tumbled over on the deck, and slept undisturbed until daylight. But he always said it was the best Fourth of July he had ever passed, and that he wished it would come twice a week during the voyage. If such a thin had been possible, he would have paliead his life on the coast quite willingly. All the men went to sleep after a while, but Charley, the Dane, came into the |steerage, and lay down on achest, and | stayed there all night, as the forecastle was too warm for him, even the ordinary |seamen taunting him with being a “so- | jer” and a sneak. The cabin company had a merry time of it, and kept up the fun until near day- ligbt on the 5th. How much wine was drank will never be known, but the cargo must have suffered a good deal of shrink- age. During the frolicking some one es- pied the captain’s white hat, and put it on his head, and there was much playful rivalry as to who should hit it, and knock it the farthest. When it fell on the cabin floor some one would kick it, like @ foot-ball, and if the old man could have seen the treatment which the hat experienced he would have shed tears of rage and mortification. But he never knew all, although he did sit down, look, feel, and examine that r "ou cheernt® after them, and feeling far 18 ny a Plain ie heard that they made a com- Son, Ver a : ; r San accident, one liable to 7 cea sae bad ant, 4ny moment, for the surf was | tridges for the guns, and an invitation Teng, “thes, and required good manage- | Was sent to the officers of the Tasso to di h, to &et safely through when it was| come on board the next day and join our of ftay mates at dinner, and havea good time thalides ant 20 exhausted Santa Barbara | generally, 3 which a willing response 29 allow we got unde n| was returned. . vorth a of June, poe with ‘a aaa We boys waited until the captain had saittra breeze, run past Point Buena- | mounted his horse, and then we ranged and, with yards nearly square, | Ourselves in line, gave him a sudden | Where long the high coast for San Pedro, | Salute by waving our hats, which fright: © arrived on the 30th, and|ened his steed, and made it shy, nearly Wap bed in three and one-half fathoms of | causing a catastrophe at the start. We ig shouted out a wish for a pleasant jour- ton Dor t wa, atched th tai t of sight n S the worst place we had /| ney, watched the captain ou of sight, ini the Coast. It was ee oak an open | and then basked in the sun until nearly ang ‘an foe Only one adobe house on| time for aoe ct ia ile aes 8 ig’, <°UPied by a Captain Foster, | wanted to know what ha etained us ater of Wife, a Mosican eth; aut the we said we feared the old man might Tn MBlish io Pico. The captain was-|come back and need assistance, which Ign man, and did not seem to have| Was as good an excuse as we could in- ho’ for th ©xcept order horses and bul- | vent, and was acceptable as any, for the , ted at t Masters of such ships as an- | mate grinned an incredulous grin and set RUE octndl ti the era ing atl | Barrel two or Cares demljohus of Boston i fear ie oe penthee? a1 a sliatry for the proper celebration of the Wy, che ‘ : Y; tC at , 8S Boot N a cargo foe: Buatad ahitite Fourth of July. Perhaps some of the stuff Oy a ©ws for us thio’ found its way to the steerage for the use Tithe 2, Onth Senta ain of those who were not accustomed to be Th_© Coa: 8 we should have to spend 4 , be next’ after she was gone. slighted. & raft tov A oat our ae ‘ At _ ree —_ z= — filled _ a Carp, »V°S it on shore, and then|demijohns the fumes o e wine ha het, it on nit up the high bluff, and | such an effect on Lewey that he put his lenitdiang € tableland, all ready for| arm around my neck, and stated he was aly harg ™4 bullock carts.° It was very sorry for all that he had said and thea eee tone re i om men swore | done at ee eae Sie that ws ac- a ’ ars i sub- | tive mi ; las it upon a scheme waghtent per but it had e5" Wd deri as chat he thought would pote us pros- g be Maqe® Mercy on us, if money | perity and happiness in the future. With the aide for ; “ y gar,” said the French lad th yee cart some one. You see, by gar,” said the French lad, Eby \deg and. came from town, loaded | “dat you has some money comin’ to you hy Try cy tallow, we were required | ven you is of age, hey?” pth, Vv b y | a tonne over hing to the boat, down the} I acknowledged that I should have the hat for more than an hour, when he re- turned from the Pueblo, and wondered what had altered its shape, why it did not appear natural, how it had lost some Mst us, and, if they did, it was| WE SUDDENLY RAISED OUR HATS, WHICH FRIGHTENED THE CAPTAIN'S STEED AND MADE IT SHY. | of the plush, and what could have started : i {the lining. When he spoke to the mate our thirteen guns in good shape, the only|on the subject, Mr. Prentice was ignor- difficulty that occurred being a slight ant, but thought that it must be. the misunderstanding between Old Jones and | warm, dry climate, and the captain ac- Oliver, causing the latter to get a bat | cepted the explanation. Had the steward over the head with a rammer, or a swab, ' told all that he knew there would have because he undertook to give orders when | heen an explosion of a severe nature. But the old man-of-war’s man thought that | he remained silent. Oliver should have passed the cartridges, | On the 6th the old man got back to the and held his tongue, as Jones was cap-|ship, and with him came Don Juan Ban- tain of the gun, and would brook no in-| dini, and Messrs. Woolskill, Pryor, Car- terference. Otherwise the salute was a/penter, Temple, and Stearns, and Isadora success, and, after it was concluded, the/and Anita Stearns, two very handsome steward served out to each man _ his half-| young ladies, one a blonde,-and the other bottle of sherry, and it was drank in less|a dark brunette. I was interested in Don than ten minutes. : Bandini, as Mr. Dana had made a Cali- When the dinner hour arrived Old| fornia hero of him, and given him the Jones and Scotch Jack came aft, and airs and graces of an Adonis. The com- wanted some more liquor, and Mr. Pren- pany all resided at the Pueblo, and were tice let them have a tot or two, and that | merchants and farmers, and some of them satisfied them until afternoon, and then | may be there at the present time, or, if there was a request for something more not, many of their descendants must he, substantial than wine, and so two bot- | for they would be foolish to leave such a tles of gin were sent forward, and by that paradise as Los Angeles for a strange time the crew were quite patriotic, and | country, and hard work. singing songs. ° As we pulled the party on board I had Some of the Tasso’s men came on/ag fair view of Don Bandini, and was board, and Old Jones told Mr. Prentice | greatly surprised at his ordinary appear- that there was nothing left to treat the/ ance. Instead of being a handsome man, new-comers, and one more bottle of gin | jin my view he was quite the reverse. He was given out, and at sundown all hands} was thin and dark, with eyes that were assembled to fire the last thirteen guns. | heavy, a face that showed age, and there Every one wanted to be captain of the} were deep wrinkles around his temples. pieces, and it was no easy matter to pre- | His hair was coarse and stiff, his beard vent a little unplesantness. But the mate, j and mustache scraggly, not soft and whose eye looked somewhat glassy, Set-|silky. In addition, he had a decided tled the dispute by threatening to pound | stoop to his thin shoulders, apd his chest the heads off of some of the most unruly. | was narrow and weak. Then it was proposed to put a six-pound | He appeared to me like a man who had shot in one of the guns, and aim at a! done too much work of a laborious or flock of pelicans that were Swimming On) mental character, and was prematurely the water, about a cable’s-length from o]q, This was only five years after Mr. us. Dana had seen him, and- the change must The suggestion was adopted, and Old | have been great in that short time. How- Dring. OAs we.’ Sharp stones. As the/| modest little fortune of twenty thousand . MeN eae vepened some two hundred | dollars when I was twenty-one years old, Te wo i. ask was not an easy|unless my guardian made a mess of the S80 received ten iron flasks property; but, as he was an honest man, Jones sighted the gun, but, as he was a/ ever, his credit was good with Mr. Mel- little unsteady in his movements, and | lus, and he bought a large bill of goods, dropped on his knees, and nearly went to as did the rest of the company. I suppose 43898 they were paid for, but that did not con- cern me. A nice dinner was given to the and all remained on board during the night, and the next day some carts one of vine- rels of luscious grapes, a gift from the gentlemen, who owned a large yard at Los Angeles. I remember those grapes very well, as I was allotted the disagreeable task of picking them over, aft of the house, and that confounded Lewey would dodge around the upper cabin every few min- utes, and hand me a deck bucket, with the cool request that I should fill it, so he could convey the fruit to the steerage. I think that I complied with his wishes six different tim2s, but when he came for the seventh supply I rebelled, and asked him to consider my position and respon- sibility, and he sneered at the words, However, I was firm, and, when the old man said that the grapes didn’t pan out very well, I stated that they must have been bruised during the long journey, and that it was best to throw the damaged | ones overboard, and he said that he} thought the plan was a good one, but that he would let Bill finish the job, as my services were wanted in another part of the ship. But we did not suffer for fruit during our passage to San Diego, for which place cured all the hides district afforded. The Tasso got under way the same time that we did, as her captain was anxious to test the sailing qualities of the Admit- tance. There was a strong northeast breeze, and the bark would have to. beat up the coast, being bound to Santa Bar- bara. We tripped our anchors at the same moment, and then braced sharp. up, and and tallow that the stood over toward the Island of Catalina, | but, for the purpose of allowing the Tasso to draw ahead, we did not board the main tack, or hoist our topgallant. sails, and even then we were compelled to back our mizzen-top sail to let the bark get a fair distance in advance, When she was mile from us we made all sail, took a pull on our lee braces, put watch-tackles on the topsail sheets, and sent. Chips to the wheel. There was an eight-knot breeze, and smooth water, and we walked up to the Tasso as though she. was lying at an- chor, weather reached her more than a cable’s-length, shot ahead, and then put our helm up, and crossed her forefoot, and commenced our passage to San Diego: but in the afternoon the wind died away, and we were becalmed within sight of Point de Loma, and just outside of the immense kelp fields that fringe the coast of the port. The captain of the Tasso never asked us to sail another race him, and did not even allude to the trial of speed when we met the bark at Mon- terey, some weeks afterward. (TO BE CONTINUED.) 4-0 iy Harr, Lhe aia) By HARRY CASTLEMON, Author of ‘‘A Sallor in Spite of Himself,” «True to his Colors,” “Frank, the Young Naturalist,” “Frank in the Woods,” “The Steel Horse,” “Frank on the Mountains,” ‘‘The Rod and Gua Club,” “Snowed Up,” ete, {Guy HARRIS, THE RUNAWAY,” No. 16. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] CHAPTER XXV. THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELER. ine ELL, Guy, which way shall we Y (4, go to-night? Do. you feel in- clined for a game of billiards aw before supper?” The speaker adjusted his of a looking-glass, drew a stray lock of hair over one of his ears, turned his head from side to side to assure himself his toilet had been completed, and looked over his shoulder toward Guy Harris, who, having just rendered to the book- keeper an account of the cash that had passed through his hands during the day, was buttoning his coat preparatory to | leaving the store. The question was asked in a low tone and was accompanied by a sidelong glance toward Mr. Wal- ker, who was standing at the keeper’s desk. “T don’t know,” replied Guy, hesita- tingly. “I’ve been out a good deal of late, and I think I had better begin to stop at home once in a while of an evening.” “Oh, nonsense!” exclaimed the first speaker, whom we will call Jones, and who was one of the mercial travelers employed to sell goods for the firm of Harris & Walker, party, | | the came | from the Pueblo with hides and two bar- | one more that I can spend with we left after we had se- | of the conference | ployed to do the outdoor business of the manifold temptations which beset morally injurious to young ye ple; he thought that gins Guy had learned the value of about a quiaer of a] Guy a College, and he also found him at a small boarding-house kept by a with Guy. | coach-horse. ate the privileges and comforts of civi- with | city acquainted with his clerk’s past tory, wrote to his partner. a wonderful j and acted, she said, so much like her own | son, who had gone to California to better his fortune. kindness she showed him, and learned to was commenced in | negative wrong, tempted. with him. hat in front|Under such circumstances, makes changes, and soon Guy began to learn that | troubles and perplexities, which, in pag people, forming of the same duties over and over l|again, hecame tiresome to him; it too much like a tread mill, came his mind as wellas his body was weary, and he was in no condition to dip into the mysteries of double-entry book- keeping. regular in his attendance at and he began to spend his leisure hours at home. book- | evenings, but became a bore at Guy I after supper for a hreath of fresh air; and drummers or com- | to enable him to enjoy it | always smoked a cigar. “What | is the use of moping in the house all the| while? When one has been hard at work | visits Guy found that it was the head-jeler, “he takes a little, and when alcohol all day he wants some recreation in evening, I take it.” “I know that,” said Guy, “but to tell truth, Jones, 1 don’t get as much money for my services as you do, and |] can’t stand this ‘bumming round’ as you call it.” “Funds. giving out? face.” “T have been doing just that very thing. I am deeply in debt, too.” “Oh, that’s nothing when to it. Show me a clerk ‘in is not in debt, and I will show that are.” “But my creditors want me to pay up; Then run your you get used this city who you five |} at least I judge so from the way they are beginning to look at me every time I see them.” “Well, if they become say to them that if they get before you do you would be know it. Are you allready? If you are, come on. Ihave only this evening and you, for I must start off on my travels again early on Wednesday morning.” impatient just the money This conversation took place one Mon- day evening in the store in which Guy was employed, and about two months subsequent to the events recorded in the last chapter. In accordance with his | promise Mr. Harris consulted with his new partner, Mr. Walker, and the result was that Guy was em- as city collector and ship- a salary of four hundred firm—to. act ping-clerk, at | dollars a year. His working hours were from eight o’clock in the morning until six at night, with an hour’s intermission at noon for at his own disposal. dinner. His evenings was an arrangement with Harris was not altogether knew by experience the This last which Mr. pleased. He who live in large cities, and believed there was something in the night air but time ane wanderings, and hoped that would be devoted, as he said money during his lis evenings he intended to devote them, to the acquirement of the rudiments of a business education. To further this end Mr. Harris purchased for scholarship at the Commercial lodgings for widow lady in a retired part of the city. For a month no fault could be found He was as steady as an old He had learned to appreci- lized life, and knew how to enjoy them, Having been made aware of his deficien- cies he applied himself manfully to the task of overcoming them. on hand during* business hours, and per- formed his duties faithfully. began to take a deep interest in him, and sent encouraging reports to Norwall con- cerning him. He was always Mr. Walker “Guy is a splendid fellow!” sa Mr. Walker, who was the only one in the his- “He is very industrious and painstaking, aud a word of encouragement or approval stimulates | him to extra exertions. You know I al- ways thought he was a good boy.” Guy’s landlady, Mrs. Willis, also took interest in him; he looked Guy appreciated every little love her as devotedly as he had once loved his father’s wife. But Guy’s goodness was rather of the sort. He did nothing simply because he was be good But time has their way, are just as vexatious and hard to year as, those that fall to the lot of other The routine of the store, the per- that even a shipping-clerk was When_ night become ir- the college, led him to This Reading and conversation with Willis interested him for a few last, and into the habit of strolling out Mrs. fell fully he almost The place at which he purchased his Cigars was a beer saloon, and after a few NEW Ss. the | pleased to | were | those | jreadily. “J | vants, Jones, the junior clerk. | cordially. | deed, Mr. Walker hac as t | ing goods for the firm, and, not | lend you any money, Everything was going smoothly | He was aiming high now, had | | formed iresolutions which he had not yet | had time to forget; his whole mind was | occupied with the duties of his new voca tion, and it is easy to work and | business hours | fully noted. | against said Will. quarters of half a dozen fellows, clerks like himself, who spent all their evenings there. ‘They would come in after supper, singly and in couples, take a glass of beer or cigar at the bar, and then pass out of «sight through a door that led into a back room. Acquaintances are easily made in places like this—more is the pity—and Guy very soon got into the habit him to wouldn’t Guy, who them; then one of them treated acigar, and asked him if he “step back and take a hand.” had often wondered what there was in the back room that brought those clerks | there so regularly, replied in the affirma- the | through that it following them spoken of, found tive, and, door just led | into an apartment devoted to pigeon-hole, dominoes, and cards. The acquaintances Guy formed that | . + . . . . . | night ripened rapidly into a sort of friend- He became a regular visitor at the | ship. saloon, and although he was a remarkably lucky card player, and was seldom “put in” for a game, the money he had care- fully saved during the time he had been employed in the store—and it amounted to a respectable eee through his | | Guy. fingers almost before he knew it, and at last he had not a single dollar remaining. One night he surprised his new friends by seating himself near the card-table, but declined to take part in the game. “What’s the matter?” they all asked at once. “Why, I might be beaten, and if I doI have no money to pay the bill. I forgot my pocket-book,” said Guy, ashamed to acknowledge that he did not own a cent in the world, “Is that all?” cried one of the players. “That’s easily enough got over. Say, Jake,” he added, calling to the proprietor of the saloon, “if Harris gets stuck for this game, you’ll chalk it, won’t you?” “Oh, sure,” replied the Dutchman, drusts him all de peer he The boy had _ been a good customer, and he could afford to accommodate him to a limited extent. This was a new chapter in Guy’s ex- perience. He had never thought of going in debt before, and ere many weeks had passed away he had reason to wish that no one had ever thought of it for him. About the time Guy first met these new friends he made the acquaintance of Mr. Jones, the commercial traveler, who was presented to him by his brother, Will These two young gentlemen, Mr. Jones and his brother, had private reasons for hating Guy most Will had been an applicant for the position of shipping-clerk, and, in- partly promised it to him; but yielding to the wishes of his the promise of something better as soon Gait was an opening. Will, of course, was highly enraged. Being rather a fast pe man, he had got deeply in debt, and needed the extra | | hundred and fifty dollars—in his subordi- | nate position he received but two hundred and fifty—to satisfy his creditors, who were becoming impatient. His brother, the commercial traveler, was absent sel]- him a full and ended by a few dollars. The what else to do, Will wrote account of his troubles, begging the loan of |commercial traveler ge bes as follows: treated. | “You have been shamefully That place was promised to you, and you shall aed it if I die for it; but I can’t You ought to have better sense than to ask me, for I were not hard row of stumps directly. Smoke fewer cigars and drink less beer till I come, and I’ll see what can be done, In|} the meantime watch Harris—watch him |so closely that you can tell me every one | of his habits, f I can get a hold on him I’1l have him out of that store, no matter if he is the son of the senior partner.” In accordance with these instructions, the object of which Will fully compre- hended, he set himself to act as aspy upon the shipping-clerk, and every move- ment that young gentleman made during and At first Will saw nothing encouraging in Guy’s behavior, for his habits bore the strictest investigation; but from. the time he got into the Dutch Jake’s saloon for cigars and beer the spy collected abundant evidence him. When the when it was finished, said: “Then Harris drinks beer, “But mustn’t put faith in that,” “He never takes too much.” “No matter,” said the commercial trav- you dashing young lis in, wit is out, always. of nodding to| |these young fellows every time he met | elegant youny fellow. |objections I room with | his {durable clothing with which th | enough for any young man in nee i stances, began to look, in the ey pared |nished him with an outfit — it { . |eyes dance with delight, and Cc! ks partner, he gave Guy the situation in- | . ; — stead, and made Jones junior clerk, with | knowing | | might be pleased to run at hi ones P Yr. ’ have | very | often told you that my commission does never | not begin to support me. If it for my other business I should be in a/| | spectfully over the counte | parlor” took particular p | could get at it, and to see |ite four. pocket afterward was care- | | his regular game; and livery way of going to| commercial | traveler returned he listened with interest | to the story. his brother had to tell, and | does he?} ments. That’s all right. I am certain of success.” nance I will bet you a suit of new clothes that you are SBIP ping-clerk in Jess than a month=pre vided, of that you have beet guarded in your own conduct, and given old Walker no reason to distrust yous At the very first opportunity the com: mercial traveler was introduced to GU and the latter was highly flattered t05& that he had made a very favorable 1 yression upon the gentlemanly Mr. JODe® le could not help seeing it, for Mr. Jones did not attempt to conceal his admiration? for Guy. He accompanied him om? business tours about the city, dropped a to see him every night, and never ® he was awe course, peared to be easy while : from him. And Guy was glad to hee his company. He was proud to bes® on the streets with such a. well-dress®™™ “Harris,” said Mr. Jones one day, B= Walker tells me that he will not st i me out again under two or three week? and I must have a home somewheré ‘ you and your worthy lance have should like to boar you. You area fellow after my own heart, and I like your society: id “T have no objeciions, certainly; ve “I should be delighted with the Go home and take SUPP: rangement. I with me to-night, and I will propos |to Mrs. Willis.” he ix Of course Mr. Jones jumped at t jon vitation. He made a favorable ina upon the unsuspecting landlady, 4 naw he w out oka did not see how — body could help. liking Mr. Jones~, 4 the consequence was that he par pat week’s board in advance, and wae ony same evening duly installed 1 room. The intimacy thus formed begat 0s sult disastrously to Guy before tWO 7 had passed av.ay. The ship ping-cler pew his simplicity, imagined that his erio? friend looked up to him as @ oe Mr. being, while the truth was padi | Jones, by skillful handling, was “He le him to suit his own purposes. Guy into all sorts of extravag®# the first place he made such a GISF vai, abundant wardrobe that t © Pip: e § nd himself, ood 11te - ql jrcue 1ce- of had provided believed to be ping-clerk which he owner, rather shabby when ©® with the elegant broadcloth Mr. Jones wore every day. He t money sufficient to buy better, 7 a Jones had both cheek and cre vqinted through him Guy was made acqu ourth with a fashionable tailor OD ful’ street, who, in three days’ rice of it against Guy on his Chen, of course, other things b® ; new purchased to correspond with : otto clothes, for coarse pegged boo oe jook gloves, and a felt Pat would ne yclotb- well with a suit of German pee yine®s Guy must have patent leathers, 1? rene) a stove-pipe hat, and importe from kids, all of which were procute’ snes, |merchants recommended by Mr. | psel jand each of whom expresset ount willing to wait, not only for the. at Guy : :. envy osnenn of that bill, but for any oe stores In fine, the advent of M cis duced a wonderful change 12 cumstances and feelings 12 weeks. The commercial al ‘ large circle of acquaintances } ed anaGey was sweryeetionl introdue well the son of the senior member 0 known and wealthy firm 0 ab Walker, wholesale dry goods meter hosm and from being an obscure cler®. nobody noticed, found himself ants is a high wave of popularity. 6 0 pi id gentlemen touched their hats i vite, the streets, and now and the? ¢ wit . 5 OF sons him to take a cigar or a is quite with them; perfumed an jeanet ave bartenders in gorgeous saloons | ne rw “ al his orders, and executed them «pills “7 yo > ‘lerks ; i cer a ie rity; the clerks in a sins tO kek’ 01s rica tc nest inalon 30 that no”. private cue locked up so t that pis f ied was ‘clock jee?” J : table | when he dropped in at six 0 rjc, aU”. ed ers trotted out their best stocky aeishe nished him with their fines | aing when he wished to go out Sunday afternoon. le © pees sho ife For the-first time in the wend 1s of his existence Guy was cent ¥ ted and that, too, withous S ca pocket. He was bewilderees |. joy with pleasure, and there va nis My thing to throw a cloud og a That was the way 6 dow? y . cam looked at him when he can breakfast in the morning with a dechiPog hands and red swollen eyes; 4" cup at to take anything more coffee. than On such occasions ea €Xpression cut Guy pay 8 led t oY the last no for hi; or the mo) Teady to os Sb "solutions AS they qould ea U's prese Mer Old-fog ae by hum: omething ‘A8 We journ Way, And our pil ; fastin = us Danish OF our day aStin, at plang Gi Conseq W's awal { GUY x \PAHE 3} ni trave’ “pha ta OWal waked ince W Te, and i —_ Lm] 2 = — Ss we rressed, | “ Mr. * start weekS; oe eee Se ee a o o S Gog 8 _ EY thie CGooD NEWS. 439 caression on the good lady’s face that Guy to the heart, and somehow al- ‘ Boeent to come to his senses; but Riipic ot Mr, Jones was always tesohate step in and nip in the bud any As ¢ lons of amendment he might make. would a, walked toward the store he uy's taw a glowing contrast between mer o] resent circumstances and his for- -fogy manner of living, and wind some ing over a verse of doggerel : ing like the following: AB We journeying through life, let us live by the And our Pilgrimage gladden with feasting, not fasting : Te ‘ aus banish dull care, and keep scrrow at bay, Our days are all numbered, and life is not asting,” His and Plans were not yet fully matured, S awakening. CHAPTER XXVI. GUY RECEIVES A PROPOSITION. HE Shipping-clerk and commercial Tavéeler walked out of the store 4mm-in-arm, and bent their steps . : talkeg ward a billiard saloon. Mr. Jones 0 Mcessantly. The sober face Guy While and the words he had let fall a Selva 7 Were small things in them- Tegan, & ut much too important to be dis- aWakeni’ for .they were signs of the Which yl® Which was sure to come, but Wishe tr. Jones, for reasons of his own, longer to postpone for a day or two §pivits. So he tried to keep up Guy’s nea Mince believing that a little assist- Dateh pat hot come amiss, led him into 3 bene $ saloon, where they had a Dayin f eer and acigar apiece, Jones othen’ Or one and Guy treating to the 4 wal alk it, Jake,” said Guy, as he ® mato, pound the end of the counter for “Vell £0 light his cigar. hesitate? Said the, Dutchman, with some likes qi ots ‘I shalks dis, but I don’t how “$Shalking pisness pooty vell, no- lazgeg 2 Peen shpending .monish like Our pin ieester Harris—you know it. Gy een running dwo months.” This Wwas dened to the roots of his hair. - hin, 48 a'gentle hint that Jake wanted dinnes P2Y up, and he had never been “Hed before, “Righpnuch do I owe you?” he asked. know it ngullars und vorty zents; you Can ma dollars and—Great Scott! how he be?” exclaimed Guy, almost Aven’ ret with astonishment. “I the} €en stuck for a game of cards Vel a4. 60 weeks.” ‘touted’ e Sall fair, every zent!” almost Wn on 2, Dutchman, bringing his fist Whag, the counter with a sounding Under a» Ou dinks I sheats you, py ‘ep , mate) Jake, you needn’t get on the ®risi,. S2id Jones, interposing to valm Your bile Storm. “Guy is not disputing Ye penn c® is a gentleman. He will pay bays ell Of it in a few days.” het’ {b Doot fre mit, yj Ygwick. Ven a man gomes | iain, Me glose und a vine vatch und Sus On epaus me a pill here in mine On’t lik ight tollars und vorty zents, sole tile the: dis pisness.” lt hoarse? Dutchman was talking him- th, ty Tete. uy and his companion beat a *- Matt at. Jones seemed to look upon Ke frinthe light of an excellent Sy) Saiq , UShed heartily over it, but Jee lOus fra hothing. He was in a very Rnjoy © of mind. He did not in the the ¥ y @ game of billiards that De, Xpleace his thoughts were full of Deed Sant incident that had just hap- le wre Was learning now what all plate, 2° £0 in debt must learn sooner ed Tolls y ata bill, like the snow-ball a thetlates > to build his mimic fort, ac- tog Zame Tapidly. He was glad when ale @ cio?’ finished. He and Jones Ut to °F at the counter, and were «rONeg ;oVe AWay when the bartender R Tdon'(’° uy. shetis ” saute you to think hard of me, that of his; he, eecine Vay out of ear- I Would ePanion, “but I just thought Il here tSsest to you that perhaps fre is rather larger than you b ant, Up at’ like e been running five weeks, te ave Hay customers settle yao © a month.” high indigee 18 1t?” asked Guy, with as ¢ Wns, rence as he could throw into Unga tly douststang snty-four dollars. Don’t mis- ted for | know: I am not dunning » and ona that you are a thorough- fh least Es Atte omens Ou are able to pay it at ‘on fas 1 merely wish to call your an : tig, Slad you did,” said Guy. “I'll by Guy S0d-evening.” Me inp uddenly been knocked over ‘sible hand he could not have a fork led to the mortifying reflection that | _ ae last six weeks he had not paid a a forhis board. ‘Then he would seem Guy's sequently he was not ready for | been more amazed. Thirty-two dollars in debt, and seve.al creditors yet to hear from! Had he been asked an hour before to name the sum he owed these two men he would have said not more than five are indebted—that is, if you are perfectly willing to do so.” “Of course I am,” returned Guy, readily. “T will meet your friendly advances half- way. To begin with, there are my bills dollars. He had kept no account of the|at Dutch Jake’s and the billiard saloon, bills he had run at other places, and if they exceeded his estimate of them in the | same proportion that these two did what would become of him? Where could he raise the money to pay them? He could not bear to think about it. He overtook his companion at the door, and the latter saw very plainly that the awakening had come. “Well, perhaps it is as well that it should come now as at a later day,” | soliloguized the commercial | traveler. “T’ve got him just where I want him, and I’ll make him a proposition. to-night. have another whole day to operate in be- fore I start out on my travels, and a great deal can be accomplished in that time. How much is it, Guy? Twenty-four dol- lars! That is less than I thought it would be. Billiards at twenty-five cents a game, and fancy drinks at fifteen cents each count up, you know. When are you going to pay it?” “T don’t know. I can’t pay Jake’s bill, much less this one.” “Well, now, I say! Look here, my dear fellow, this won’t do, you know!” ex- claimed Mr. Jones, suddenly stopping in the street and turning a most astonished face toward Guy. “Remember, if you please, that these people to whom I have introduced you are my personal friends, and that I brought you to their notice supposing you to be a gentleman. You must pay these bills. My honor is at stake as well as your own, because I in- troduced you. If you don’t do it your creditors will call upon Mr. Walker.” “Great Scott!” ejaculated Guy, who had never thought of this before. “Certainly they will,” continued Mr, Jones, “And. just consider how I should feel under such circumstances! I should never dare to look a white man in the face again. I didn’t think you were dis- honest.” “And I am not, either,” returned Guy with spirit. “I should be glad to settle these bills, but how can I do it without money ?” “Oh, that’s the trouble, is it? It isn’t want of inclination, but a lack of means. Is that it?” “That’s just the way the matter stands,” answered Guy. “Then I ask your pardon,” said Mr. Jones, grasping Guy’s hand and shaking it cordially. “I misunderstood you. But are you really out of money?” he added, with a look of surprise, although he knew | very well that Guy was penniless and | had been for weeks. » dot’s all right, put it’s petter he | | in debt. again as long as I live.’ “T haven’t a red,” was the despairing reply. “Don’t let it trouble you. I can remedy that.” “You can!” exclaimed Guy, astonished and delighted. “Of course. I earn three or four thou- sand every year outside of my commis- sion, and in an hour [can explain the mode of operating so that you can do the same.” ? “And will you?” asked Guy. “JT will, I assure you. Harris, when I am a friend toamanlIam a friend all over. And what is the use of my pro- fessing to think so much of you if I am not willing to prove it?” “You are a friend, .indeed,” returned Guy, with enthusiasm, “and if you will help me out of this scrape I will never go “Oh, as to that,” said Mr. Jones, in- differently, “it doesn’t signify. The best of us get short sometimes, and then it is very convenient to have a friend or two who is willing to credit us. All one has to do is to get up a reputation for hon- esty and then he can run. his face as long as he chooses.” “What is this plan you were speaking of?” asked Guy. “IT will tell. you this evening. After supper we will go up to our room, and while we are smoking a cigar we’ll have a long, friendly talk.” Guy did not want any supper. He could think of nothing but his debts and his companion’s friendly offer to help him out of them, and he was impatient to learn how his relief was to be accom- plished. He urged Jones to reveal the se- cret at once, but the latter could not be revailed upon to say more on the subject just then, and Guy was obliged to await his pleasure. Supper over, the cigars lighted, and the door of their room closed to keep. the smoke from going out into the hall where the landlady would be sure to detect it, Guy and the commercial traveler seated themselves, one in the easy-chair and the other on the bed, and proceeded to dis- cuss matters. “Tn the first place,” said Mr. Jones, “in order that I may know just what to do, you must tell me how much you owe, and give me the names of those to whom you | amounting to thirty-two dollars and forty icents. Then I am.indebted thirty dollars jto Mrs. Willis, and if I may judge by the way she looks at me now and then she | would be wonderfully pleased if I would | pay up.” “Oh, she doesn’t need the money,” said | Jones. “She has a little fortune of her ;}own, and only keeps boarders for com- ;pany. if she says anything to you there are plenty of ways to put her off. Tell | her that you will settle up as soon as you draw your next quarter’s salary.” “That would be a good joke on her, wouldn’t it?” said Guy, with a forced | | laugh. “To tell the truth,” he added, with some hesitation, “I—that is—you know Mr. Walker ailows me to be my | own paymaster, and I have already |drawn and spent my last quarter’s sal- | lary. I shall not get a cent of money from | the firm for five weeks.” | “J am overjoyed to hear it,” said Mr. | Jones to himself. “Things are working “He will never know it; but he will know -there’s something wrong when your creditors carry their bills to him, as they certainly will if you don’t settle up | soon.” “Great Cesar!” gasped Guy, who trem- |bled at the bare mention of the mer- chant’s name in connection with his debts. “Is there no other way out? Can’t you lend me some money?” “Not a red, my dear fellow. I manage | to spend all I make as soon as it gets into better than I thought. I’ve got you ina} tight corner, my lad, and all that.is_re- quired is a little handling to get you in the way of embezzling.” Then aloud he said: “That is a very bad state of affairs, Guy. These people must be paid at once.” “T know they ought to be paid, and you said you would put me in the way of doing it.” “So I will. Dll come to that directly. But who else do you owe?” Guy went on with the list of those to whom he was indebted, checking -each he pronounced his name. Jones listened in genuine amazement, for Guy had been carrying things with a much higher hand than he had supposed. His debts, ac- cording to his own showing, footed up one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and if the amounts charged against him on the books of his creditors exceeded his ex- pectations as greatly as Jones hoped they would, he owed at least two hundred dol- lars. The commercial traveler took down the names and amounts as Guy called them off—a proceeding that Guy could not see the necessity of. “You mustn’t show that to anybody,” said he. “Certainly not,” replied Jones, with an injured air. “I wish to ascertain just how much you owe, so that I may know how large a sum of money it will take to put you on your feet again. One hundred and twenty-five dollars,” he continued, after he had added up: the column of figures. “That is a bad showing, Guy—a very bad showing, indeed. It is a large sum to one whose salary amounts to only four hun- dred dollars a year, but it must be paid. Are you ready to listen to my plans now?” “Tam,” said Guy. “Iam all ears.” “T do not suppose that you will like them at first,” said Mr. Jones, “but if you will take my advice you will consider well before you reject them. I can only say that Iam about to describe to you a business to which, as I happen to know, a great many people resort to enable them to eke out a respectable livelihood.” With this Mr. Jones took a long pull at his cigar by way of inspiration, set- tled back on his elbow @h the bed, and proceeded with a minute and careful ex- planation of the business to which he had referred. He had not said many words before Guy’s eyes began to open with sur- prise, and the longer he listened the more amazed he became. When Mr. Jonés drew from his pocket the implements of his trade and exhibited them to Guy the latter jumped from his chair in high in- dignation. -"T’ll never do it!” said he with em- phasis. “I hayen’t amounted to much during the time I have knocked about the world, but I have never yet been mean enough to play confidence man.” “This is the way you repay the interest I take in you, is it?” demanded Mr. Jones, angrily. “I offer you a friend’s advice and services, and you abuse me for it.” “Vou are no friend when you try to get me into danger,” said Guy. “There’s no need of getting excited over it,” said Mr. Jones, as the shipping-clerk began pacing nervously up and down the room. “I am not trying to get you into danger. I have followed this business for years, and know that there is no trouble in carrying it out successfully; but mark you—there will be trouble if you don’t pay your debts, and serious trouble, .too. What will Mr. Walker say? He thinks everything of you now—says you re one of the finest young fellows in St. Louis. “Does he say that?” asked Guy, who could not remember that any one had ever spoken a word in his ere before. “Yes, he does; and if I were you I would work hard to retain his good opin- & ” n. “T don't see that I can retain it by be- coming a swindler,” said Guy. one off on the fingers of his left hand as | | | | | | | | ! my hands. There is no other way out that I can:think of now. As I told you | before, I did not expect that you would like the business at first—I know I ob- jected when it was proposed to me—but you will find that it will grow less. dis- tateful the longer you think about it. It is a sure road to ease and fortune, and you had better take time to consider be- |fore you refuse totry it. But you are getting downhearted, Guy. Let’s go out |for a breath of fresh air. It will liven you up a bit.” “No, I don’t care to go out,” said Guy. “T am in no mood to enjoy anything.” “Then you will excuse me, won’t you? I have an engagement at this hour. I | will be back at eleven, and in the mean- time you had better smoke another cigar, and think the matter over.” “There’s no need that I should think it over. I’ll never consent to it—never. My creditors will not drive me to such ex- tremities.” “Oh, they’ won’t, eh?” said Mr. Jones to himself, as he closed the door and paused a moment on the landing outside. “We'll see about that, my fine lad. Ill have them following you like so many sleuth-hounds before twenty-four hours have passed over your head. You’}l find that they won’t care what becomes of you so long as they get their money. There is another way out of the difficulty, but I don’t think it quite safe to propose it to Guy to night. I will tell him of it to-morrow. By that.time he will be cor- nered so tightly that he will be glad to do anything to get out.” So saying the~ commercial traveler laughed softly to himself,.and slowly de- scended the stairs. (TO BE CONTINUED) SERIES “3’’ BOOK PREMIUMS. Police iin Three Books Given Away to Every Reader Fo E have concluded to give away \YA\/> three books, instead of two, as v5) originally announced, As in our first series, we will print a coupon on the first page for TWELVE consecutive issues. The coupons will be numbered from 1 to 12, inclusive, and by sending us the set complete we will send you any three books in the ‘‘Goop News” Lrsrary that you may select from the following list. There are no conditions in this premium offer except to send us the complete set num- bering from 1 to 12, inclusive. The first twelve numbers of ‘‘Goop News” Lisrary have been carefully selected from the entire list of the well-known ‘‘Golden Library.” Future issues of “Goop News” Lisrary will be composed of original stories specially writ- ten for us. All fiction published in this library will deal with exciting incidents and adventure, while entirely free from objec- tionable sensationalism. We feel certain that everybody will be pleased with them. Make Your Own Selections. “GOOD NEWS” LIBRARY No. 1.—CAMP AND CANOE; or, Cruise of the Red Jackets in Florida, by St. George Rathborne. No. 2.—SENT ADRIFT; or, Around the World on Eighty Cents, by Henry A. Wheeler. ig. 32:~ "OUNG BLUE JACKET; or, En- Ne 2 ed War, by Robert E. Morse: ° No. 4.—-BOY. CARIBOU-HUNTERS; rs Treasure-Trove of Hudson Bay, by Charles . Cross . &—-ALL ABOARD; or, The Rival ~~ Bont Chibs, by Weldon J. Cobb’ No. 6.—EVERY INCH A BOY; or, An Amateur Actor’s Adventures, by John Tulk- inghorn. No. 7.-WORKING HIS WAY; or, The Brookville Beys’ Club, by Dwight Welden. No. 8.TOM BROWN’S PLUCK; or, The Soonre of a Soldier Boy, by ‘Major A. F. rant. No. 9.—BRIGHT AND EARLY; or, The oy, Who Became a Detective, by John Tulkinghorn. No. 10.—ONE CENT CAPITAL: or, A Young Clerk’s Adventure, by Archie Van. No.11.—-WESTWARD HO! _ or, The Cabin in the Clearing, by Henry L. Black No. 12.—AFLOAT WITH A CIRCUS; or, The Diamond-Seekers of Natal, by Henry L. Black. Please address all communications in- tended for this department to ‘‘Goop News” Liprary, P, O. Box 2734, New York City, This series commenced in No, 19. wa GOOD NEWS. ie ; aed a BES, STONES Poe kv GARTER ISSUED WEEKLY. W. B. Lawson, Editor. “NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 20, 1890. Terms to Mail Subscribers: (POSTAGE FREE.) 3months - = - - - 65c. | Lcopy, two years - $4.00 4months - - - - - 85c. | The New York Weekly and 6months - - - - - $1.25 | Goop News, both for one One Year - = - = - 2.50 | year $4.50 2 copies, one year- - 4.00 How To SEND Monry.—We will be responsible for the receipt of money sent to us only when remittance is made at Post-Office Money Order, Bank Check or Draft, Rezistered Letter or Express Money Order. We particularly recommend our subscribers te the Ameri- can Express Company, who will receive subscriptions at any of their offices, and guarantee the delivery of any amount not over $5.00 for the low sum of five cents. We cannot be responsible for money lost in transit unless sent in one of the above ways, To CLUB RAIsErs.—We are at all times ready ana willing to lend you all possible aid, and wiil send, free, as many sample copies as you think you can ju- diciously use, together with other advertising matter. Special inducements made for large clubs. All letters should be addressed to STREET & SMITH’S GOOD NEWS, P. 0. Box 2734. 29 & 31 RoseStreet, N.Y. Back numbers of GOOD NEWS can always be obtained from your Newsdealers. If they do not have them please send direct to this office and we will supply them by mail on receipt of price. None of the stories published in GOOD NEWS will appear in book-form, ~ Contents of this Number. ‘Between the Lines,” hy Lient. James K. Orton. **Midshipman Merrill,” by Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. “The Young Duck Hunters,” by W. B. Lawson. “Grit,” by Horatio Alger, Jr. “Guy Harris, the Runaway,” by Harry Cas- tlemon. “On Land and Sea,” by Wm. H. Thomes. “Taking a Fort,” ‘Roll of Honor—War Heroes.” ‘Journal of a Jolly Drummer,” by the author of ** A Bad Boy’s Diary.” “A Bald-headed Boy,” by Oliver Optic. “What Shall Our Boys Do?” by Charles Barnard, “A Panther Adventare,” by A, L. Tupper. “Interesting Facts,” by John R. Coryell. And the usual interesting departments, ee ee Prize Cryptogram. NHE plot in our new war story, en- titled “BETWEEN THE LINES,” by Linur. Jas. K. Orton, hinges on a secret message or cryptogram, and, as an additional feature. we have decided to offer a prize of TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS. We will give $15 to the first and $10 to the second reader sending us the correct solu- of the cryptogram. 33 58 68 40 51 52 70 56 62 40 30 48 75 79 56 27 56 80 65 71 41 47 54 94 69 57 30 62 59 55 41 62 26 38 74 69 61 36 52 76 34 42 68 30 48 85 68 61 30 52 86 38 58 49 47 33 69 69 68 38 82 88 46 52 52 30 57 66 62 51 38 57 78 59 37 39 57 35 56 47 37 41 56 86 65 62 49 40 27 85 58 40 48 63 67 56 62 49 59 27 79 68 40 26 77 56 49 41 58 47 27 79 58 36 56 82 59 65 68 67 38 53 69 47 57 29 86 66 38 62 41 28 23 TI 78 36 38 73 78 46 58 39 40 44 58 87 70 38 83 66 34 40 41 57 23 56 58 56 30 73 96 56 42 49 47 28 54 68 67 51 92 67 64 59 62 29 27 79 51 39 57 74 80 38 60 59 51 54 85 69 47 38 712 85 46 47 58 30 26 55 72 36 36 62 57 56 57 57 26 44 57 59 57 36 52 80 54 77 49 47 54 58 68 57 30 82 85 38 41, It is a legitimate cipher, and of similar construction to one used during the waz be- tween two prominent commanders. We will show in several issues just where Tom (the’ principal character) failed to get the proper solution, thus giving you valuable ints as to how the key to the cipher can be found. In No. 42 we will give the correct solution of the cryptogram. This contest will close December 18, and guesses mailed after that date cannot be counted. Address ‘‘Guess- ing Department,” Goop Nrws. PLEASURE. rN CERTAIN philosopher once said: Ss “Life would be endurable but for HOS its pleasures.” Now, I will venture to say, boys, that all of you will set him down at once as an ‘‘old fool!” And Ido not purpose to differ with you at this time. When you are seventy years old, I will talk with you about it, if Iam still on earth, and you desire it. But I will give you a ‘‘saying” that will not seem quite so doubtful to you—in fact, it is wholly true. It is this: ‘‘Pleasure is not always pleasant.” For instance, it is a pleasure to eat and drink, but if we are foolish enough to eat or drink to excess, those acts cease to be pleasant. So we find that we must indulge temperately in pleasure, or it becomes pain. Always remember that keenest enjoyment comes with moderation. It is true of all pleasures, Then, to have pleasure real, it must be sought at the proper time. Go out to your game of ball when you should be at your studies, and you cannot thoroughly enjoy the game, even if your side does make the best score. Go to the concert-room or opera when you should be at home with your little sick brother or sister, and you cannot fully enjoy the music or the play. There is just as certainly a proper time for amusement and pleasure as for anything else. Finally, dear boys, let me tell you in all kindness, that there are sinful pleasures. Experience will teach you that these are never real pleasures; but I would have you learn that fact otherwise than by a sad ex- perience, if you can—and you can if you will, It is not my purpose in this letter to men- tion this class of pleasures separately, but I would like to ask you, with my heart full of love for you, to shun them, whenever and wherever you may recognize them! They are easily detected, for though they be gilded and painted never so beautifully, they will always show a dark side, if you look at them squarely and honestly! They carry somewhere a wrong, and sooner or later they will bite you, or sting you perhaps to very death or ruin! Life is intended for us to enjoy and we find countless avenues of enjoyment open, but owing to the ravages that sin has mada in our fair world, many of our fellow-beings fail to find these avenues, or are unable to pursue them; there is, therefore, no greater pleasure than for us to sometimes step aside from the pursuit offour own enjoyment to assist them to find happiness. Tryit, boys. Give your Thanksgiving dinner sometimes to that poor widow, or lame child across the way, and see if it is not the happiest Thanksgiving you have ever spent, INTERESTING FACTS. —_+-——_—. BY JOHN R,. CORYELL, ——_ oe ‘Substitutes for Sunlight. E may be very sure that none of the first things that man en- deavored to do was to dispel the darkness of night by an arti- ficial light. In some parts of the world it must have been difficult to find means for making light and keeping it; and we can only guess at the shifts our remote ancestors were put to, by a knowledge of what means are employed now in various parts of the world. In Alaska, for example, the natives have discovered a peculiarly oily tish about the size of a herring; this is dried and used as a candle. It requires no spec- ial preparation, but is lighted at the tail, and burns steadily, just as a tallow candle does. This candle has the advantage that when not needed as an illuminator it can be eaten. In other parts of the world the little bird known to sailors as Mother Carey’s chicken, is burned with very little more preparation than the Alaskan fish. An ordinary wick is put into the mouth and run through the body. The bird is then lighted as a common candle is, and burns as readily. In South America a bird is found, called the steatornis caripensis, which burns like a pine knot. And, by the way, the pine knot is now and has for centuries been used as an illuminator, Perhaps it may not be too much to say that the pine knot has given this country some of her greatest and truest men. Many a statesman of the past two genera- tions studied his text-books by no other light than was given by the blazing pine log, which was made to do double duty as a provider of heat and light. In the West India islands the natives from the earliest times had the simplest and yet the oddest and most beautiful means of procuring light. This was a lu- minous beetle known as the cocujo. We have fire-flies in this part of the world, but they are like the moon to the sun compared to the cocujo, This light-giv- ing beetle is larger than a large cock- roach, and throws out so much light that with a single insect held in the fingers it is possible to read a book. In going through forests at night the natives used to fasten a cocujo to each | foot in order to thus shed light on the | At the present time ladies fasten | path. the brilliant insect in their hair and there let it shine like a diamond in the dark. All over the world oi] has been used for ages, and innumerable are the sources from which the oil has been obtained. The animal, vegetable, and mineral king- doms have all been levied on for the coveted light-producer. The whale, the shark, the seal, the marine bird, the hog, the cow, and scores of other birds, beasts, and fish have furnished the fat, which in turn furnished the oil. In the vegetable kingdom are the castor-bean, and twenty other oil-giving beans; the cocoanut and twenty other oil-giving nuts; the tal- low-tree and many other oil-giving trees. In the mineral kingdom, to say nothing of other oils, we find petroleum. Next to gas, petroleum is the great light-giver of the present day, and very many persons fancy that petroleum is a modern discovery. As amatter of fact, etroleum was known ages, centuries ago. Mr. Job, who has earned sornpebine of a reputation for patience, undoubtedl means petroleum when he says: “ When washed my steps with butter, and the rock poured me out rivers of oil.” In the Persian Gulf isa little peninsula called Okesra, where there are oil wells thou- sands of years old. About two thousand years ago Plutarch described the oil wells which then existed. As for illuminating gas, almost any- body would say that it is entirely a mod- ern idea; and yet it is probably the old- est kind of a light-giver. At Baku, on the Caspian Sea, in south-western Asia, as issues from holes in the earth and urns always. And as far back as history or tradition goes, it has burned. Even in China gas has been used for centuries, It is Salient as it comes from the earth, and is carried in bamboo tubes to where it is wanted. Artificial gas was not practically used until 1798, when a Scotchman, named Robert. Murdock, who invented a_ process for making it, built a gas-making ma- chine, and lighted a shop in Birmingham, England, with the product. Of course, there were many wise persons who talked and worked against the introduction of gas; and it is quite likely that the manu- facturers of oil and candles were more sure than anybody else that gas would never do to use. Just as the stockholders in the Brooklyn ferries never could see any good use for a bridge from New York to Brooklyn; and just as the gas compan- ies are positive that the electrie light will never do to use in houses. The ten- der interest of the rich monopolist in the welfare of the people is really very touch- ing. oe “Applause. (We have received a large number of congratulator letters from our readers, and would like to publish all of them, but we are prevented from so doing by the limited space at our disposal. We desire, however, to thank all our readers for their kind patronage and ex- pressions of approval, and promise to make Goop News not only the best paper, but one worthy of a place in every household. ] ———©@ EASTPORT. MEssks, STREET & SMITH: Have received Goop News binder and book, and lam greatly pleased with both. Have inserted 23 numbers to date. Like each number, as received, better than number previous, Respectfully yours, THOS. CASSIDY, CAMPELLO. SrrEET & SMITH: Gents :—Allow me to congratulate you on the success of your excellent weekly, @oop News. It is rarely, it ever, that a new publication is received with so much favor, and finds a place in so many homes, as has your periodical. The very elements of which it 1s composed make the assurance of success doubly certain. It is a great facter, too, in what might be termed the moral teducation of the youth of this country. Boys will read, and while the country ts flooded with trashy literature it will necessarily fall into their hands.’ GooD NEws, with its grand moral tone, will find a place in the boy’s heart which no novel can dislodge and will obviate the necessity of reading literature calculated in no manner to inspire or enno May Goop News receive its merited reward. Yours truly, STEPHEN F. SHERMAN: William H. Driscoll + ‘fe following affidavit and testimonials aH , the will explain why we award eee ). News Humane Society Gold Med ~ to the above-named hero. davit I, William H. Driscoll, on oath make affl and say, that upon the second day of 1890, I saved the life of John W. Adams. following circumstances, to wit: ‘There wg Seven young men in a sail-boat together, amove whom was John W. Adams, upon Kenoga tale within the limits of Havenhill, but about one of and one halt from the thickly settled portion the city. The boat suddenly tipped over, sev hundred feet and more from the shore, six © men clung to the boat, but Adams, who 0 swim, struck out for the shore; should say De about three-quarters of the way to the land, ¥ his clothes, having become full ot water, alt G, being exhausted trom his exertions. was about sink ; 1 rowed out to him in a boat, and helped. 1% to get a hold of the boat and towed him ashore. 18 had been rowing my sister and two other hel about, and had just landed them on shore sized. the sail-boat containing the young men caps I am fourteen years of age. Wi1am H, Driscoll I, John W. Adams, on oath make affidavit i say, chat I am the person mentioned 1p the H. golng affidavit who was rescued by W iam nd Driscoll, and I consider him a deserving bed worthy the proposed medal. Joun W. ADA ‘ I, David W. Ford, on oath make affidavit ane say that I was in the boat above named time it capsized, and that Isaw William H. who coll row out and rescue John W. Adams now had started to swim forthe shore. That I 1)-be- Driscoll well, and consider hima nice, vial by haved boy, and that he fairly earned the me RD. saving the life of Adams. Davi W. FO i f 4 Personally appeared before me, a Justice ong Peace, William iL. Driscoll, John W. Adais, a David W. Ford, persons whom I certify t0 read spectable and worthy of credit, and having ; over the foregoing depositions Uy them subsmerelD made solemn oath, that the statements jan Bp. are true, and | further certify that wilt well . Driscoll is.a boy of excellent character, a2 worthy of the medal proposed. HAVERHILL, Mass., Oct. 6, 1890. Subscribed and sworn to before me, MARSHALL B, PEASLEE, Justice of the 7 icklets. Pinca BY CHARLES W. FOSTER: —- Caught the Meaning: ed, Good Minister—I was greatly ov madam, to find your little boy so attentlye a the sermon. Do you think he understood meant ?” a pind Fair Dame—“Yes, indeed, sir. He’s @ D0 reader.” peace On the Avenue. ao you Lanks—“‘Goodness me, Shanks! How happen to be trundling a baby carriage ‘V's to pro Shanks—‘ 1 borr: wed it of my sister. paby i! tect myself from being run into by other riages.” ; ; Johnny’s Explanation. ; pigh& Mother—“I heard the queerest noise 148 but couldn’t find out what it was.” I Little Johnny—“It was me, mamma asleep.” Mother—‘*Wha——?” Little Johbnny—“While I was asleep un a bed. The Handy Man. 4 alls Wife—“That pane of glass has been Ov ome mer, and now a freezing cold day has to send we need it in, I’ve told you forty times vent you man here to fix it. Why in the world ba done it?” Husband—“Because I can fix it mys? Very Regular. see you 8 Father—“Is that stranger who calls 10 man.of regular habits ?” rives eve Daughter—‘Yes, indeed, pa. He at night promptly at eight.” Blameless. ne wank Housekeeper (indignantly)—“No, I fm pad wa anything. This is the twentieth time answer this bell this morning.” ip wf Peddler (with an injured air)—‘‘This time I’ve rung it, mum,” Technical Terms. New Clerk—“I should like to know que about these stocks, sir.’ ly: Wholesale Cloi hing Merchant—"certalnhy yor goods on this floor are trousers for a, ve are re and Boston trade. On the floor @ d pal ine pantaloons for the Philadelphia am nts for trade. The third floor is filled with P&™ Western trade.” American Credentials. at young Anxious Mother—“My dear, d0€S "0 9 8 man who comes to see you belong family ?” Daughter—‘‘Yes, ma. stock, dating way back to the Mother—‘I am delighted to you sure of it ?” Daughter—‘Yes, indeed. him cough.” Fashions of 1890. Woman is 12 of hat gendet 1 fell ov va if.” gometiOs opal He comes of oid, 00! he Mayflowel put ase hear that. pe you ought # jp? the rerrung ’ Teacher—‘‘Correst. gender. Now the sentence spea woman in tashionable attire. attire ?” Bright Boy—‘‘Masculine.” ed erature GooD a place islode eratl noble. | ed, erAD what iD. mind do you 1g to pre: apy oo GooD NEwWSB. 441 ABALD-HEADED BOY. | i By OLIVER OPTIC, Uthor of «4 Battle for His Own,” ‘‘Where He Got ve Money,” “An Operation in Clams,” ‘The Sung Aeronauts,” ““Aloue in the World,” “An Voluntary Voyage,” etc. ee efits ; ASON GLASSBROOK. ‘That was my name, and is now; but no one fver called me by it. Perhaps | Ooked like a certain great man ‘fr With © other J. G., I am_ utterly incom- W © judge. Doubtless the people met ! arded in my earliest Ape noe Ny © years, saw from my linea- mili’ that I was "destined to become a Idiq wt, and therefore called me Jay. it woul, Object to the name; and if I had for ¢ d have made no difference to them, ing yy, Were not in the habit of consult: © iM regard to the disposition of my Jay ed Soul. If they had called me blue in’ ®name would have fitted my case 4 Silve €ral way, for I was not born with log 80 Spoon in my mouth, and my hard tllectiong °® gave an azure lining to my A ; heanette house where I hood T . ™y earlier boy- Rteat Gave the people a Lot fe to think about, Spirit 1 gard to mv moral, 1 and intellectual tay bald ‘ut on account of head. I was only » and during tye pert at T attained that the Widow Tuffit. It ought to have me. As soon asI got into the shanty I been written “Toughun,” but it was not, was miserable and mad as a hog, and I and,I must follow the leadings of true made up my mind to run_away and be- history, and romance not at all, even come a millionaire, for I thought that with proper names, a liberty which is | would be pleasanter than being the white sometimes extended to more distin-| slave of the Widow ‘Tuflit. |guished autobiographists than myself.| One morning in ney Ea time, when my |She had a little place, consisting of two| tyrant was particularly h ard on me, I got acres of land and a ten-foot shanty.|so mad that I boiled over. I had worked called, by courtesy, a house. She lived like a dog all the forenoon, but a shower alone till I was added to her household, ;came on at dinner time and wet the hay. and it was a sorry day to me when that ;She always told me just what to do, but event occurred. She was reputed to have the shower was my fault. I ought not to considerable money out at interest, but| have had that shower, but somehow | | | _ she was the meanest individual to whom|could not help it, and the hay got wet, Say pute Same initials, though, as I never | an experience of five-and-sixty years in| Her jaw was terrible; her peaked nose the world has introduced to me. I have|and her peaked chin seemed to come to- no space for details, but when I went gether and strike fire. She gave me no from the poor-house to her shanty I went dinner, though I was half-starved, and out of the frying-pan into the fire; and|said so. Nota mouthful. I had let the the poor-house was a refrigerator com-|hay spoil. I should have its value taken pared with her hovel. Tosum it all up, |}out of my board. I told her it would take [ had to work from daylight in the morn- |a thousand years for her to get her money ing till dark on the two acres of land,|back in that way. I left, I fled, [I My room in the attic admitted the rain skipped. I had ten cents Squire Blany eas Birt K 2 f . had given me for doing an DANIEL CALLS AT THE PARKER HOUSE, errand. I spent it allfor| @2,,. | ' a 5 gingerbread, and ate | Te was half-past nine o’clock in the and the snow very freely, and worse than either of these the biting blasts of the winter wind. up my fortune, Of ® air on the summit u re anium came off, and Rain .. MeVer grow there Row. me Ought to have Pile I 1/8 loss beset me jon't tn 4a the measles. alt all cat to say that my Pow againn’ off and did not tke 5 a 80 that I looked Petlemer venerable young itt seats Who occupy the on the mee comic operas, wy ab a ess desert was 1 AMetag three inches in ied enoy h Owever, I was “al of oe to excite a good Wleatthement among the he Old a LOarding-house. hie Wermato ror. considered Utica 0- Ogical and the T to« iyi testions, but he a famous hotel on School street, known as “Parker’s.” “I hope nothing has happened to the boy,” he said to himself, uneasily, as he drew out his watch. “It is time he was here. Have I done rightly in leaving him in the clutches of a company of unprinci- pled men? Yet I don't know what else I could do. If I had accompanied him to the door my appearance would have awakened suspicion. If through his means I can get authentic information as to the interior of this house, which I strongly suspect to be the headquarters of the gang, I shall have done a good thing. Yet, perhaps I did wrong in not giving the boy a word of warning.” Mr. Baker took the cigar from his mouth and strolled into the opposite room, where several of the hotel guests were either reading the morning papers or writ- ing letters. He glanced quickly about him, but saw no one that resembled. Grit. “Not here yet?” he said to himself. “Perhaps he can’t find the hotel. But he looks too smart to have any difficulty about that. Ha! whom have we here?” This question was elicited by a singular figure upon the sidewalk. It was a tall, overgrown boy, whose well- worn suit appeared to have been first put on when he was several years younger, and several inches shorter, The boy was standing still, with mouth and eyes wide open, staring in a bewil- dered way at the entrance of the hotel, as if he had some business therein, but did not know how to go about it. | “That’s an odd-looking boy,” he |thought. “Looks like one of Dickens’ characters.” : ; Finally the boy, in an uncertain, puz- zled way, ascended the steps into the main vestibule, and again began to stare helplessly in different directions. One of the employees of the hotel went up to him. ‘ “What do you want?” he demanded, ten times better lodged than I was. I| when I took off my ragged palm leaf to Mee ar Daker?™ asked the boy, lived on salt fish and baked beans from|scratch my head in the store, He was : ~* one end of the week to the other. I have | talking to the proprietor. nothing to say against either of these “That is Jason Glassbrook, commonly y ° |viands, but they needed to have about, called Jay,” added the storekeeper. ted oh Ct Eur 16 S 1n most of the events | ; ch Ole jin between them on as many different | Moles or cranberries on my skin, and I days. Both were miserably cooked, ex- |.did not happen to have any; but that gen- | five other elements of alimentation stirred| It was not necessary to exhibit any cept when the old lady was sick, and the|tleman was my Uncle Stephen. He had department of the cuisine had to be dele- | been a merchant in Valparaiso, had made gated to me; and then she kept upa|his fortune, and had come home to spend lively cannonading from the embrasure | it. ooh between her peaked nose and her peaked} “I am glad tosee you, Jay,” said he, chin because I wasted so much salt pork. | and he took me by the hand. “You look I was almost literally clothed in sack- las though the world needed a little greas- cloth and ashes, of which she provided | ing to let you slip through easier. Your the former, and I the latter in trying to | father and I both had that bald spot after | get my feet warm at the fire-place, but} the measles, and you look as your father not as a penitent, for I had none of the | did when he was a boy. | fittings-out of such except the garbage. Blessings on my bald head! It had th neq into .“PPY period in which I | I went to school in the winter for three |saved me from the Widow Tuffit. My months, for the selectmen insisted upon|uncle bought me some clothes at me it; I kept warm in the school-house, for | store, and fitted, me. out like a REIS the town provided the fuel, and the boys | really thought I was a millionaire the D. mut it on the fire; but I had to thrash | After the shower we went up to ay half the boys,. and make faces at half the | good-by to the widow: and she was the girls for calling me “hald-head.” It is a| maddest widow that ever howled over wonder to me that I did not become a! wet hay. She would not let me go; but I! fighting character. The only friend I had went all the same. Uncle Stephen was a was Rosalie Spinner, and I used to think | widower, and he laid himself out on me. of her and dream of her, for she was as | He dressed me like a young lord; he sent pretty as she was kind and gentle, and' me to college; and I have always’ been did what she could to fight my battles for the most grateful bald-headed boy that “No; Iam not Mr. Baker.” “Where is Mr. Baker?” “I don’t know anything about Mr. Baker,” answered the attendant, impa- | on . Mh boy told me I would find him here,” said Daniel, for, of course, my | reader recognizes him. : “Then the boy was playing a trick on most likely.” ; Be this time Mr. Baker thought it ad- visable to make himself known. “I am Mr. Benjamin Baker,” he said, advancing. “Do you want to see me?” Daniel looked very much relieved. “T’ve got a note for you,” he said. “Give it to me.” Daniel did so, and was about to go out. “Wait a minute, my young friend, there may be an answer,” said the detec- tive. Mr. Baker read rapidly the following note: ‘Tam in trouble. I think the letter I received was only meant to entrap me. I have not seen Mr. Weaver. but I have had an in‘erview with Col. | Johnson, who planned the robbery of the bank at Chester. He seems to know that I had something to do with defeating bis plans, and bas sounded me as to whether! will help him in case ‘I act again as bank messenger. On my refnsing, he touched a spring, and let me down through a trap- 442 door in the floor of the rear room to a cellar beneath, Where Iam keptin darkness. The boy who gives you this, brings me my meals. He doesn't seem very bright, but I have agreed to pay him well if he will hand you this, and I hope he will succeed. I don’t know what Col. Johnson proposes to do with me, but 1 hope you will be able to help me. Grit.” Benjamin Baker nodded to himself while he was reading this note. “This confirms my suspicions,” he said to himself. “If I am lucky I shall suc- ceed in trapping the trappers. Hark you, my boy, when are you going back?” “As soon as I have been to the market.” “Very well; what did the boy agree to give you f.r bringing this note?” “Five dollars,” answered Daniel, his dull face lighting up, for he knew the power of money. “Would you like five dollars more?” “Wouldn’t I?” was the eager response, “Then don’t say a word to anybody about bringing this note.” “No, I won’t. He’d strap me if I did.” “Shall you see the boy?” “Yes, at twelve o’clock, when I carry his dinner.” “When you see him tell him you’ve seen me, and it’s all right. Do you under- stand?” Daniel nodded. “IT may call up there some time this morning. If Idol want you to open the door and let me in.” Daniel nodded again. “That willdo. You can go.” Mr. Baker left the hotel with a pre- occupied air. CHAPTER XXXVIII. GRIT MAKES A NEW DISCOVERY, GETS INTO TROUBLE. AND “ RIT, left to himself, was subjected “, to the hardest trial, that of wait- SA ing for deliverance, and not know- ing whether the expected help would come. “At any rate I have done the best I could,” he said to himself. “Daniel is the best messenger I could obtain. He doesn’t seem to be more than half-witted, but he ought to be intelligent enough to find Mr. Baker, and deliver my note.” The subterranean apartment, with its utter destitution of furniture. furnished absolutely no resources against ennui. Grit was fond of reading, and in spite of his anxiety might in an interesting paper or book have forgotten his captivity, but there was nothing to read, and even if there had been, it was too dark to avail himself of it. “I suppose I sha’n’t see Daniel till noon,” he reflected. “Till then I am left in suspense.” He sat down inacorner and began to think over his position and future pros- ects. He was not wholly cast down, for e refused to believe that he was in any real peril. In fact, though a captive, he had never felt more hopeful, or more self- reliant than now. But he was an active boy, and accustomed to exercise, and he grew tired of sitting down. “TI will walk a little,” he decided, and roceeded to pace up and down his lim- ted apartment. Then it occurred to him to ascertain the dimension of the room by pacing. As he did so he ran his hand along the side-wall. A most remarkable thing oc- curred, A door flew open, which had ap- peared like the rest of the wall, and a narrow passage-way was revealed, lead- ing Grit could not tell where. “T must have touched some spring,” he thought. “This house is a regular trap. I wonder where this passage-way leads.” Grit stooped down, for the passage was but about four feet in height, and tried to peer through the darkness. But he could see nothing. “Shall I explore it?” he thought. He hesitated a moment, not knowing whether it would be prudent, but finally curiosity overruled prudence, and he de- cided to do so. Stooping over, he felt his way for possi- bly fifty feet, when he came down to a solid wall. Here seemed to be the end of the passage. He began to feel slowly with his hand, when another smali door, only about twelve inches square, flew open, and he looked through it into another subterran- ean apartment. It did not appear to be occupied, but on a small wooden table was a candle, and by the light of the can- dle Grit Gould see a variety of articles, including several trunks, one open, re- vealing its contents to be plate. “What does it mean?” thought Grit. Then the thought came to him, for, though he was. a country boy, his wits had been sharpened by his recent experi- ences. “It must be a store-house of stolen goods.” Ef This supposition seemed in harmony with the character of the man who had lured him here, and now held him cap- tive. “Tf I were only outside,” thought Grit, , police ought to know it.’ Just then he heard his name called, and turning suddenly, distinguished by the faint light which the candle threw into the passage, the stern and menacing countenance of Colonel Johnson. “Come out here, boy!” he called, in an angry tone. “I have an account to settle with you.” CHAPTER XXXIX, AN UNPLEASANT INTERVIEW, QD \HERE was nothing to do but to tHe Obey. Judging by his own intrepre- : tation of the discovery our hero was not surprised that his captor should be incensed. He retraced his steps and found himself once more in the sub- terranean chamber facing an angry man. “What took you in there!” demanded Colonel Johnson. “Curiosity, 1 suppose,” answered Grit, composedly. He felt that he was in a scrape, but he was not a boy to show fear or confusion. “How did you happen to discover the entrance?” “It was quite accidental. I was pacing the floor to see how wide the room was when my hand touched the spring.” “Why did you want to know the width of the room?” asked Johnson, suspic- iously. “IT didn’t care much to know, but the time hung heavily on my hands, and that was one way Of filling it up.” Colonel Johnson eyed the boy atten- tively. He was at a loss to know whether Grit really suspected the nature and meaning of his discovery or not. If not, he didn’t wish to excite suspicion in the boy’s mind. He decided to insinuate an explanation. “I suppose you were surprised to find the passage- way,” he remarked. Se Me WER eo “As you have always lived in the coun- try, that is natural. Such arrangements are common enough in the city.” “T wonder whether trap-doors are com- mon,” thought Grit, but he did not give expression to his thought. “The room into which you looked is under the house of my brother-in-law, and the passage affords an easy mode of entrance.” ; “T should think it would be easier going into the street,” thought Grit. “Still I am annoyed at your meddle- some curiosity, and shall take measures to prevent your gratifyng it again. I had a great mind when I frst saw you to shut you up in the passage. wouldn’t enjoy that.” “T certainly shouldn’t,” said Grit, smil- ing. “T will have some consideration for you, and put a stop to your wanderings in another way.” As he spoke he drew from his pocket a thick, stout cord, and directing Grit to hold his hands together proceeded to tie his wrists. This our hero naturally re- garded as distasteful. “You need not do this,” he said. “TI will promise not to go into the passage.” “Humph! Will you promise not to at- tempt to escape?” “No, sir, I can’t promise that.” “Ha! you mean then to attempt to es- cape?” “Of course!” answered Grit. “I should be a fool to stay here if any chance offered of getting away.” “You are candid, young man,” returned Johnson, “There is no earthly chance of your escaping. Still I may as well make sure. Put out your feet,” “You are not going to tie my feet, too, are you?” asked Grit, in some dismay. “To be sure am. I can’t trust you after what you have done this morning.” It was of no use to resist, for Colonel Johnson was a powerful.man, and Grit, though strong, only a boy of sixteen. “This doesn’t look much like escaping,” thought Grit. “I hope he won't search my pockets and discover my knife. If I can get hold of that I may be able to re- lease myself.” Colonel Johnson had just completed tying the last knot when the door, which had been left unbolted, was seen to open, and the half-witted boy Daniel entered hastily. “How now, idiot!” said Johnson, harshly. “What brings you here?” “There’s a gentleman up stairs wants to see you, master,” said Daniel, with the seared look with which he always re- garded his tyrant. “A gentleman!” “Who let him in?” “T did, sir.” “You did!” thundered Johnson, “How often have I told you to let in nobody? Do you want me to choke you?” “T—forgot,” faltered the boy. “Besides, he said he wanted to see you particular.” “All the more reason why I don’t want to see him. What does he look like?” “He’s a small man, sir.” “Humph! Where did you leave him?” I fancy you repeated Johnson. NEWS. ” “Room above, sir. “T’ll go up and see him. If it’s anybody I don’t want to see I’ll choke you !” “Yes, sir,” said Daniel, humbly. As Johnson went out Daniel lingered a moment, and, in a hoarse whisper, said to Grit: “Tt’s him.” “Who is it?” asked Grit, puzzled. “Tt’s the man you sent me to.” “Good! You’rea trump, Daniel,” said Grit, joyfully. A minute after heard in the room above. pale. “Tell him where I am, Daniel,” said Grit, as the boy timidly left the room. CHAPTER XL, COLONEL JOHNSON COMES TO GRIEF. ay a confused noise was Daniel turned E must now follow Johnson up stairs, In the room aboye, sitting down tranquilly in an arm- chair, but not in that in the center of the room, was a small, wiry man of unpre- tending exterior. “What is your business here, sir?” de- manded Johnson, rudely. “Are you the owner of this house?” asked Benjamin Baker, coolly. “Yes. That does not explain your pres- ence here, however.” “T am in search of a quiet home, and it struck me that this was about the sort of a house I would like,” answered Baker. “Then, sir, you have wasted your time in coming here. This house is not for sale,” “Indeed! Perhaps I may offer you enough to make it worth while to sell it to me.” “Quite impossible, sir. This house, and I don’t want to sell.” “I am sorry to hearit. Perhaps you would be kind enough to show me over the house to let me see its arrangements, as I may wish to copy them if I build.” “It strikes me, sir, you are very cu- rious, whoevér you are,” said Johnson, angrily. ‘“ You intrude yourself into. the house of a quiet citizen, and wish to pry into his mee arrangements.” “I really beg your pardon, Mr. ——, I really forget your name.” “Because you never heard it. The name is of no consequence.” “IT was about to say, if you have any- thing to conceal, I won’t press my re- quest.” “Who told you that I had anything to conceal?” said Johnson, suspiciously. “IT inferred it from your evident reluc- tance to let me go over your house.” “Then, sir, I have only to say that you are mistaken. Because [ resent your im- pertinent intrusion you jump to the con- clusion that I have something to conceal.” “Just so. There might, for example, be a trap-door in this very room——” Colonel Johnson sprang to his feet and advanced toward his unwelcome guest. “Tell me what you mean,” he said, say- agely. “I am not the man to be bearded in my Own house. You will yet repent your temerity in thrusting yourself here.” Benjamin Baker also arose to his feet, and, putting a whistle to his mouth, whistled shrilly. Instantly two stalwart policemen sprang into the apartment from the hall outside. “Seize that man!” said the detective. “What does this mean?” asked Johnson, struggling, but ineffectually. “Tt means, Colonel Johnson, alias Rob- ert Kidd, that you are arrested on a charge of being implicated in the attempt to steal a parcel of bonds belonging to the National Bank of Chester, Maine.” “T don’t know anything about it,” said Johnson, sullenly. “You’ve got the wrong man,” “Possibly. is my If so, you’ll be released, es- pecially as there are other charges against you. Guard him, men, while I search the house. “Here, boy, show me where my young friend is concealed,” said Baker to Dan- iel, who was timidly peeping in at the door. A minute later and Baker cut the cords that confined the hands and feet of Grit. “Now,” said he, quickly, “have you dis- covered anything that will be of service to me?” Grit opened for him the dark passage. The detective walked to the end, and saw the room into which it opened. “Do you know, Grit,” he said, on his return, “you have done a _ splendid day’s work? With your help I have discovered the headquarters of a bold and desperate gang of thieves, which has long baffled the efforts of the Boston police. There is a standing reward of two thousand dol- lars for their discovery, to which you will be entitled.” “No, sir; it belongs to you,” said Grit, modestly. “I could have done nothing without you.” “Nor I without your information. But we can discuss this hereafter.” Johnson ground his teeth when Grit was brought up stairs, free, to see hip ; handcuffed and helpless. a hands as 1 “TI believe you are at the bottom of Bit) . sae can you young rascal!” he said. cay fOr vy, “You are right,” said the detectir oe "ons, aint “We have received very valuable ee | ,, Isha 1 mation from this boy, whom you sup” an: Mtr, Jackso posed to be in your power.” +4 Jol: Mnate that “T wish I had killed him!” said 0%) ie Y Now, ho son, furiously. that | ork?” “Fortunately, you were saved orse -— When v crime, and need expect nothing ‘Off . 4 ee Advise than a long term of imprisonment. a mlect & hor cers, take him along.” = self Ome | 7 f down t ‘ phy 7 CONCLUSION. A neat? sw Of ok “ZU “TAHE Boston and Portland paper all ia ong a Mi the next morning contaime f ae peeved age 3 a accounts of the discover Ober a thesent, f <7 rendezvous of a gang 0 ie jn | atacterizg whose operations had been extent i foy other, and near Boston, together ‘wit t «Qou.” rest of their chief. + ven 10 wy hat is In the account full credit was ancy ip bea Jac our young hero, Grit, for his agent the | omey doll the affair, and it was announce tht vee wahat ig ; prize offered would be divided bere thee? has | ate and the famous detective, Bem the topat h Baker. soac oF tthi,.y OPera It may readily be supposed that tyes Mink tam count created great excitement 1 artilY wp cthaps ter. Most of the villagers wel@ © aden Byes seen pleased by the good fortune and § ther? wae Grit renown of the young boatman; pich Mig OW can was at least one household | is | “polaris the news brought no satisfaction Thier Used was the home of Phil Courtney-. about Thiet Adva, “What a fuss the papers maké gust } > tag being that boy!’ exclaimed Phil, ™ of a oe T Me aly “I suppose he will put on no e® “an hay when he gets home.” “He be ¢ “Very likely,” said Mr. Courtney. all.” seems to have had good luck, t wnousand “Tt’s pretty good luck to get a “paps dollars,” said Phil, enyiously- wines do me a favor?” ihe “What is it.” in “Can y 5 sand dollars “ant Can you put a thousai poatmal can! bank for me, so that the crow over me?” “Money is very scarce Wi now, Philip,” said his father: do just as well to tell him you thousand dollars in my hanas. pie would rather have it in @ rilip. ; “phen you'll have to wait. till af venient for me,” said his fathe™ It was true that money was ne ' Mr. Courtney. I have already, - 1 spree he had been speculating in W oa heavily, and with by no means vig ne success. In fact, the same even! t inf ceived a letter from his bro a that the market was so heavily him that he must at once for™ até thousand dollars to protect bis 2 the stocks carried on bis ace? to mee syst | ith me Fil | be sold. ple As Mr. Courtney was unal™™ oid, this demand the stocks wer jollars: 60 | volving a loss of ten thousan@ © 1 gse6 This, in addition to previous ne vs far crippled Mr. Courtney the Ww compelled materially to chaDs® own bath of living, and Phil had to come mortif ‘T iteig ie social scale, much to bis Pe ion. at : ¢ But the star of the young boat™ yd ft Mand f | in the ascendant. at he fort els Fi Gr ome On his return to Pine Rom prokey fj fath . Ww Mr. Jackson, the New YO tari fy thedony t th about to leave the hotel for A rit One | 8 nape tor the city.. He congratulated, 7 pd PF oe mila “i 0 oe as an amateur detectlV® pavld et tenor 2 asked : ; y Sn 0 “What are your plans, Grit? nant up t. tt iy her you won’t care to remain @ be giv? - pte ie “No, sir; I have decided my. M, Stay that business at any rate. . on of wjtke hip Ja “Have you anything in view + ating . ve him” ; “I thought TI might get 45 ize mie Pc Tava some kind in Boston. The PP a vat tay that” 8 will keep us going till I can © pine fe Iyjned hi salary.” from °° ae of lian, And | “Will your mother mov “jee Fy ‘ing pec Point?” jonel¥ 5 Oin: _ yes, sir; she would be hy without me.” yy “I have an amendment to off@ 7 Nhe oir plans, Grit.” port ‘tm, “What is that, sir?” 2 ~ “Come to New York inste ga me. %, Ey on.” 6 © tig, “OD On have no objection, sit; if ther? of hy Sts, he” opening there for me.” ffice- De ef Be tig eo,.° ¢ “There is, and in my 9° my oft eth “e- Aer greet think you would like to ente? 5, cai FT tho, that ¢ “I should like it very mUChy “of Rg Plessy, eagerly. ta gala atte Silver” “Then I will engage YOU 4) grab Tocet hy! ung twelve dollars a week—1!or t d Grits i006 - Mt, Sifte,. “Twelve dollars!” exclaime™ ep | Ygetsieve | whelmed. “I had no idea #8 com JP tteg thist could get such pay.” a Mr. Jaret - “Nor can they,” answere that & 4 smiling; “but you remem et ween is an unsettled accounh ved © have woe forgotten that you of my boy.” “T don’t want any reward for “T appreciate your delicary* e feel better satisfied to ree 0 : ae Way. I have another proposal to ce aaa, you. It is this. Place in my vf this} *@$tmuch of your thousand dollars = mic Can spare and I will invest it care- ectiv® | tions or your advantage in stock opera- jnfo’ } “y Sian hope materially to increase it. re n sup | My, Ta, ul! be delighted if you will do so, 7 tung €kson, and think myself very for- Job } “y at you take this trouble for me. Yorke"? hOW soon can you go to New that f « * «hen you think best, sir.” Off Fs.) advise you to go on with me, and A meeome for your mother. Then you tlt a. ° back for her, and settle your- +o to work,” A * * * * * Staion Ta) ina pleasant cottage on a Neat], fads, Grit and his mother sat in Yung y- Urnished sitting-room. | Our ease 0 was taller, as befitted his in- Dleasany but there was the same - tharact », frank expression which had Pos bee him as a boy. : for ou,” Said he, “I have some news ven 9 f nat is it, Grit?” ney 2 fF trent’ j ackson has raised my pay to at the. f “Thet Ollars a week.” twee? BS 3 | 1s excellent news, Grit.” sjanoid ~ the eight besides rendered an account of j FT Neto . hundred dollars he took from pis ac thing ip crate With. How much do you ches “Perh 4mounts to now?” eatil¥ of nee a thousand.” sddet | Wereg Gait four and five thousand!” an- ae: tit, in exultation. b 0 which , Mrs, Mw Can that be possible?” exclaimed Th Oris, in ; ; Me used } n astonishment. te 4 ne ch ad itasa margin to buy stocks aber s- his bein enced greatly in a short time. ison, P Mdetha 4 tePeated once or twice, has of FP Te almost rich.” ime) to petaly believe it, Grit. It is too ‘ t Ut it true.” all. at han Bion: 1s true, mother. Now we can : + mode of living.” a 5 “pap | lars, “ill you are worth ten thousand £ too, hays, then I will consent, But , Ye Some news for you.” ; jn the ei D pat is it?” J 1 8B aR Voy & letter from Chester to-d ; i Old x2: er from Chester to-day. sash sme Story teighbor, Mr. Courtney, has_ lost ie J i} | coms: or almost everything, and has [t art esse pel ed to accept the post of bank pave” one Sata Salary of fifty dollars per Seaettiat i. sid . What ih deed, a change,” said Grit. j 6 BS 8 : ALL 0?” is _ "Na Salan S0ne into a store in Chester, sort th It {Por fet of three dollars a week.” ce Yat y nots ae said Grit. “I pity him. ed ark long to ard fora boy with his high st ing peru Tate down in the world so. Lh, re Doyetted cn begin small and rise than ati tty raed only to sink into ageice | Shen fuite true. The result of his rdf of. ® pitringe’tlations was to reduce Mr. rg} ust be Dalane. Poverty, and make him for | if ji atl man. of his life a soured, discon- | Y Or pr: i) me a git Geol he is still young, and ad- 1d, i mst ha, teach him a yaluable lesson. at 0 f° tag Satj rd Y think he will ever look sss | re fron ion upon the growing suc- he way ga hor tity of the young boatman. ei ae Moet ved the ‘nother change. {[t will be ow fic + gg ter as M. have referred to Grit’s or sess hay tlentari ts. Morris. Mr. Brandon was | v8 7 fy, he nd drowned in Portland Harbor, 8 Lg Ig, dee srtaken, while under the in- gout cs ang" Some tor: to row to Peake’s proke e b teat ut rp miles distant. His wife > bute. © Shocked by his sudden am bie A iy HPs they coula hardly be expected q the? ey Coyyq'@me of Im. His widow resumed Baa it NOW Ja her former husband, and pall Moy fnor o? Bide all anxiety as to the rom Ee it by her il her life being broken in i ee jo * L-ehosen second husband. u thay’ to Stay, if Grit’s prosperity hee ry : am privately informe Lio? of Ke h Tackson intends next year to sone finior partner, and this will Z ‘ position in business cir- oF. ttmheg’tt oo my young readers will pire | i and . .Prosperity has been weil Be FP tpeart s Beas rejoice heartily in the iy pe’ Gay Re Point > Of “the young boatman or 4 (tHE END.) oT My Rr py < f COM mar. LUCK,” by Max ADELER, if pos “need week after next, a j- , e is es Yoo N Exercise for Lispers. . Neng > EWS roe Tha the ty Ommends, as exercise for lige “Orrect ee Sentences here appended. Moby that 2 terance will convince any FT Pele man who speaks them is E i Hoyt SilyoY, fuddled, r Sleves of sif ____—- How Jockeys Reduce Their Weight, 12 ITTLE BERGEN does not have much g| t/ trouble in reducing his weight, as ij he has seldom been above 112 G-” pounds. He runs all the way down to 100 pounds, and he easily reduces him- self four or five pounds, as the oécasion warrants, by going into the hot room of the bath, curling Se in the corner, and simply lying there while the perspiration rolls off of him. Once in a while he un- curls himself, goes to the plunge, and rubs his head with ice-water, then returns to his former position, and stays there pluckily until he is down to the proper weight. Taral is another easy reducer. He usually takes the hot-room for two hours, then swims around in the plunge for a long while, and returns for another hour in the intense heat. If this is not enough, he puts on a sweater at the track and plods around in the dust hour after hour, until he is fit to ride at the weight set out for him on the card. Jockeys like Taral, Bergen, ard say Grace, whose weight is about 110 pounds are not as much worried by the phantom of disaster known as too much weight as the broad-shouldered and big-boned boys. Many jockeys of the latter build are sure, steady, clear-headed boys, with plenty of pluck and strength, and the other quali- fications that go to make up a successftl jockey, but they have to undergo such ex- traordinary tortures to keep down to a weight which will not place a crack horse at a disadvantage in.a race, that they get nervous, irritable, and lose their skill. The difference between a perfectly healthy and robust man and aman who has re- duced himself by internal and external means until he is so nervous and weak that he cannot hold himself upright, is a wide one. A strong dose-of brandy before the race begins may pull together a few of the failing energies, but it does not give the rider the cool judgment and thorough bal- ance which comes of perfect health, That is one reason why some of the boys who are naturally small and thin have a big advantage on the season’s mounts over much more clever jockeys who are handi- capped by big frames or a disposition to grow stout. There seems to be a great difference, too, in the abilities which jockeys show toward reducing themselves. An hour in steam heat with one man will take off a pound, while it will not reduce the weight of another three ounces. They tell me that Spellman was one of the readiest reducers that ever went into a bath. He was known on one occasion to take off seven pounds in four hours. His weight in summer was usually 130 pounds, while he often rode at 111 pounds._ It is said that Spellman on one occasion, hav- ing to ride at a light weight at short no- tice, reduced his weight in one night from 111 pounds to 104 pounds in a little less than five hours. He was always the source of more or less alarm to the attendants of the baths, for they could never tell ex- actly how he was getting on. He would wait into the hottest corner of the steam- room, wrap'a wet towel around his head, curl up on a chair with his head resting on his folded arms, and his legs crossed, and sit like a Sphinx for hours. Once in |a while one of the attendants who knew | him well would go and speak to him, but | the boy would not answer a word or raise his head. They were always afraid that | he had fainted from exhaustion, opr had | succumbed to an accelerated action of the heart, but they were afraid to disturb him. After sitting two or three hours in this position he would uncurl himself, drift to the outer room, and drink a_ bot- tle of ice-cold beer. Then he would re- sume his former position and remain there, with the thermometer at 169 or 170 degrees of heat, and the perspiration drip- ping off of him steadily. When he finally got out of the bath and had been thor- oughly well rubbed, he was invariably light enough to ride. Spellman died about two years ago on Sixth avenue. It was at first thought that he had been robbed and murdered, but the coroner de- cided that he had fallen and hit his head against one of the pillars of the elevated railroad, causing concussion of the brain, which resulted in his death. ———— a i O—- S. & 8, MANUAL LIBRARY. This series comprises hand-books of in- formation on many useful and interesting subjects. They are carefully compiled from | the best sources and connot fail to please | the reader. Issued Semi-Monthly. Price 10 Cents, eatin No. 1—The Album Writer’s Assistant, No. 2—The Way to Dance. No. 3—The Way to do Magic, No. 4—The Way to Write Letters. No. 5—How to Behave in Society. No. G—Amateur’s Manual of Photography. No. %T—Out-of-Door Sports. No. S—How to do Business. No. 9—The Young Gymnast. No. 10—The Hunter and Angler. No. 11+Short-Hand for Everybody. No. 12—The Taxidermist’s Mannal. Any of the above books will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10 cents, postage prepaid, by the publishers, Street & Smith 31 Rose St. New York. FIFTY CENTS. The above amount includes postage on one of our handsome binders. It is, with- out doubt, the finest binder ever offered, even for double the price we ask, and is in- dispensable to those who are keeping their papers, as it not only preserves Goop Nrews for future reference, and from being lost, but keeps them clean and in good order. It is both useful and ornamental. It has a durable black embossed cover with flexible back, and a gold stamp title on the outside cover. It opens flat as any book, and each week’s paper can be inserted as soon as received. Full directions for in- serting the paper accompany each binder. We will send the Goop News binder and a package of binder pins, postpaid, to any address on receipt of 5O cents. This binder and has never been offered at this low figure before by any publisher. Plainly stated, our reason for offering this binder below cost is as a means of adver- tising, Bae 444 ANDREW 0. APPLE. ROLL OF HONOR—No. 10. War Heroes. (During the late war, and immediately after the first battle of Bull Run, it was proposed that a certain dis- tinctive medal should be given to soldiers who particu- larly distinguished themselves for bravery, the same to be cast from cannon captured in battle, and from this proposition resulted the resolution of Congress, (No. 43), approved July 12, 1862. On March 3, 1863, the act was amended in order that officers and men of the navy might be included, and the United States had final” set a value upon bravery, not of money, but a proud distinction. As yet this Roll of Honor has been made only by the War Department, and to each name, representing the bravest of our brave, but a single line has been given. During the past two years the com- piler of these records has used every effort to sain from the owners of medals an account of the actions in which they were won, and the resultis that the different stories have really »been told by those who alone could give all the details.] a eS Taking a Fort. How Fort Gregg was carried by assault during the operations before Petersburg. Told by AnpREW QO. APPLE. —. S of these records wrote to Andrew O. Apple, then Chief of the Fire Department at Elgin, Ill., asking that he tell, for the benefit of the readers of Goop News, how his Medal of Honor was won, and the following brief. sketch is the substance of his reply. The answer had but just been received when news came of his death. As he had lived, a hero, so he died, leaving another gap in the ranks of the bravest of our brave, whose number is steadily decreasing day | by day. In the year 1862, when Apple was seven- teen years of age, he resided in New Cum- berland, W. Va., and was apprenticed to a miller. During the previous twelve months this section of the country had been occupied successively by the Con- federate and Federal forces, and all who enlisted then knew to a certain extent of the hardships and sufferings which neces- sarily makes up the greater portion of a soldier’s life. : Notwithstanding all he had heard Apple was determined to become one of the GOOD NEWS. and the greater number of us were forced to use our bayonets during the entire as- sault.” According to the official records fifty- seven of the enemy were killed and two hundred and fifty surrendered. Then the guns of the fort were turned upon Whit- worth, and that fortification was at once abandoned, sixty of its defenders being captured while retreating. Unfortunately it is not possible to give any details of Apple’s behavior during the struggle, except that his commanding officers unite in declaring that he dis- played unusual courage. He himself passes it over entirely, simply saying: “The first | knew that I had done any- |thing out of the ordinary line was one | morning while we were in camp at Rich- mond, after coming from the scene of General Lee’s surrender, the orderly ser- geant stopped at my tent and rk a if: J wanted to go home, which had so long resisted our efforts. “Instead of being content with my an- swer the sergeant told me to fix up and report to regimental headquarters. I had oo SE SO NE OI EVERAL months ago the compiler | “T told him that we would all go so} soon I had better wait for the regiment. | and without the slightest idea that any- The great victories which had just been | thing more was to follow what to us had won made us eager to see the closing acts | been a succession of ovations. Our sur- of the war. Then again there was an in- | prise, therefore, may be imagined when, tense satisfaction in being inside the city | shortly after our return to Richmond, the | took the fort after a terrific struggle, dur- | ing which there was no time to reload | ruards; but Lam unable to say whether our muskets after first discharging them, | it was for the Government, or for private | | yeaa an eae pace = eee “A photograph was taken of the forty | their homes, and remain there until exchange ~.| You will take with you the satisfaction parties. At all events, we were first stood in front of a camera, and then Sec- retary of War Stanton gave us the free- dom of the city, two months’ pay, a fur- lough of thirty days, together with free transportation to our homes and back. “You can fancy how readily the money, |railroad passes and leave of absence was accepted, and, after spending a short time in Washington each went his way rejoicing in the knowledge that for one} month he was free from the dull routine } of a soldier’s life. Besides, there could be no question but that the fighting was about over, therefore none of us feared very much that we would be missed. “As for myself I enjoyed every one of the thirty days, and went back to the front believing I had been amply rewarded for all that had been done during the as- sault on Fort Gregg; but, as it was soon |shown, the full payment for that day’s work had not been made. “We wént into camp like schoolboys who had earned an unexpected holiday, whole corps was drawn up in a hollow square, and the name of each member of the furloughed party was called in turn. “As we stepped forward General Ord’s PEROT eH eso “THE MEN FOUGHT HAND TO HAND, AND THE GREATER NUMBER OF US WERE FORCED TO USE OUR BAYONETS DURING THE ENTIRE ASSAULT.” but little choice as to the clothes I should | daughter came up and pinned a Congres- wear, and at the best looked more like a tramp than a respectable soldier. We had not drawn any garments for three months, and I was ragged, dirty, and with shoes which would have disgraced an ash barrel. “The orders had to be obeyed, howeyer, regardless of personal appearance, and on reporting I found a lieutenant and one private waiting for me. We three were then told to go to brigade headquarters, where were two men from the 23d Illinois atoms in the “machine of war,” and to| and one from the 116th Ohio, that end enlisted as private, not without some difficulty because of his age. He had ample opportunity to “smell owder” at Winchester, New Market, Picimont, Lynchburg, Halltown, Ope- quan, Fisher’s Hill, Cedar Creek, and finally in the desperate engagements in front of Petersburg, where he won the coveted medal for “gallant conduct in battle.” His regiment formed a portion of the 24th Army Corps on the second of April, 1865, when the grand assault was made, and in order to understand the import- ance of the work done by this division it | will be well to give a brief resume of the | position at that particular time. The battle opened at 4:45 A.:M., and was fought desperately until about three o’clock in the afternoon, when the victory was complete for the Federal forces. At noon the outer line of works, with the exception of Forts Gregg and Whit- | worth, had been taken, and an hour later General Ord attacked the first. named re- doubt with three ‘brigades. It was the most stubbornly contested point of all, and the men fought hand-to-hand nearly half an hour before the Confederate forces would yield. Of the assault, Apple writes: “From here we were sent to the corps commander, and he in turn ordered us to the landing, where about forty had gathered, none of whom knew any more about their reason for being there than I did. “A steamer was tied up to the bank, lot. of gun boxes which we had every reason tosuppose contained weapons. We lounged around a long while wondering why guns should be sent away at such a time, and finally the orders came for us to go on board as guard to the boxes, The steamer was bound for Washington, and on arriving there we were to escort the | freight to the White House. “Hven then none of our party realized what it was that we were to take such wonderful care of, and not until the cases had beelfopened in our presence before all the Cabinet members did we learn that they contained General Lee’s battle flags. This was just at the time that the coun- try was beginning to realize that perhaps | the private soldier had something to do | with the victories, and every one seemed eager to give us a good reception because of the news we had brought, or, rather, 'beeause the contents of those gun cases | proved the truth of the reports sent by “We came from the left of the line, and ' General Grant, and the only load she had on board was a| | sional Medal of Honor on the breast of each one, and for the first time we under- stood that the country had decorated us witb the highest possible gift as a reward for bravery of which I, at least, was un- | conscious of having deserved. “Tt is not necessary to speak of the pride I felt at being thus singled out from so many brave fellows. If I had earned it unwittingly it was,none the less precious, and I value it more highly than words can tell.” This is the story given in the exact lan- guage of one of our heroes, and that he does not take to himself any particular credit for the deeds performed on that day when blood ran in streams, and every man in both armies struggled for the mastery, as men should, gives it all the more weight. He had participated in the last great event of the war, for, shortly after Gen- eral Lee rode into the little village of Appomattox Court House accompanied only by Colonel Charles Marshall, his military secretary, and signed the terms of surrender which gave his brave follow- ers up as prisoners, who were shortly to be paroled, and called forth the following farewell address from a great general to his vanquished men: “HRADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA. } “April, 19, 1865, “After four years of arduous service, marked by unsurpassed courage and fortitude, the Army of Northern Virginia has been compelled to yield to overwhelming numbers and resources. I need not tell the survivors of so many haed-fought battles, who have remained steadfast to the last, that T have consented to this result from no distrust of them: but, feeling that valor and devotion could accomplish nothing that could compensate for the loss that would have attended the continuation of the contest, I have determined to avoid the useless sacrifice of those whose past services have en- deared them to their countrymen. By the terms of the agreement, officers and men can return to | bright flame. The flame melts the ceeds from the consciousness of duty fattnfully formed; and I earnestly pray that @ mercitu iol will extend to you His blessing and pro “tf With an increasing admiration or your ore and devotion to your country, and @ grate der membrance of your kind and generous on ation of myself, 1 bid you an. affectionate “R, E. LEE, Gene —~—_—_——_— Candle Gas. ¥Ay CANDLE is a kind of gas lif, YEXKC Touch a lighted mates . in the im? wick, and the fat or 0 with ® “~~ wax will begin to burn "aay s and part of it is burned up, ant p d pot over down the candle, The oil ee jnto melted wax is sucked up the Wie the flame, and then burns. At the * to time the heat turns part of the gas, and it is burned, and adds ‘ dle rightness of the light. Blow th@™ ser out, and you will see a yale blue § ing & of smoke rising from the wick. lighted match into this stream © and it will take fire, and @ he will jump down and set fire to vert the again. ‘To do this experiment eas!’ match must be put within about ay ate! of the top of the wick, and imme ppis after the candle has been blow® ov es {0 is a queer little experiment, aD g as it show that the candle is making am ; i burns. When the candle is blow? nt ot keeps on making gas for 4 OE with two, and it rises in a slender etre’ peat the smoke, and, if flame is broug and Fe it, it will take fire and run dow? © sates light the wick. In about tw br gtoP the candle will get cold, an bide e t0 making gas, and it will be impo touc! light the wick unless we actually | it with the lighted match. | and set them both lighted 02 © | | ve # Boys and girls in the county ier 4 game they call “lighting the cme or, 32! large junk bottle is laid on the } es op i one of the boys or girls sits ove piv, and puts his feet out in front toe 0 with the heel of one shoe oD the: pales: the other. Then he takes tw® a q the one in each hand, one lighted e cal other not. The game is to light 0 oveh dle from the other without falling pales When the game begins the tw js 1 1 are set on the floor, and the ie from pick them both up and light thee pottlé the other without falling off t ady There is nothing to keep one ge wo 3 as soon as you lift the candles ° Boys. go, and you have lost the game. girls who can do it have to é still and balance themselveS, n pave ® they go, and the others looking good laugh at his or her expenst candle It is not easy to light 4 CO OF is ® and before it can be done SBE 1+ ‘fat v most always sure to find hims€ jight ae the floor. If the candle woul 3 en ale stantly it would be easy enous” 4 gether up the two candles, touch ctl fore you tipped over. Now, “\et ther trick light both candles, 22 aye we burn for a moment till they rapidly, heated, and are making ? one a Then, when all is ready; lift ty them out, and then instantly if the up, one in each hand, and, ever are. oy do not touch, they wil take wick Min stream of gas flowing from the fA jpe leap down and set the wick 0”). set instant, and the feat wil to ups plished before you have time pis ey from your rather ticklish seat. is excl. that flows from a candle- wick “peve ingly poisonous, ae Pe lowed to come near the face. +4 4s At night, if you use candles Wing a to snuff them out instead of 2 t eon. out, as the escaping gas poisrne a beite and in a close room will give * agree ache, besides making a mos wo smell, orth MK Speaking of gas, it may be ‘ in ma while to try a little experime a ing gas from wood. 7 ae yipe with a large bow] ane. pipe aay. Then fill the bowl 0 the Poor te bits of dry wood or scraps nen plat ne sawdust or pieces of bark. | cles the the clay over the top so & “low F top of the bowl. ies set the me t ler fire, with the stem standing. pre In a moment or two a slende ole iY pis smoke will flow out of 7 to a stem. Touch a lighted may plue inf and it will take fire. This 1)? e butt on the end of the pipe-stem }§ the DOV pet gas driven out of the wooc + many the the pipe. Wood, coal, an heating , go things contain gas, and by This ‘ost the gas can be driven out. ed 8 Mig is machine made of a pipe 18 CO rect Bog re and in the same way, our lay or rs made by cooking coal in ¢ torts. When it is done, 0 driven out, the coal comes Open the Foe! tort in the shape of_coke- on the Ry he when the gas stops burning - cide wi p stem, and the bits of wood | er = found turned into black ¢!? the coke made from the w00" SF ee BLP BEE NS OS ARTE 1 pers . al oi OOD NEwe. tection ~ 445 ! the book to-motrow—a brand-new one—/ mention to Kitty my little flirtation wit rom his eyes, “how do you know where| book. Found her sitting on porch of sun h|I saw a pile of fence rails lying ready to 5 er : . F 8 conve ( ] 1) poet RAL AGHENY you and your women- the pretty summer-boarder. Of course, repair a fence—those rails I lugged, three ners” ( ' : folks—— |it is perfectly harmless, but she might | at a time, up the embankment, where the i U “Look-a-here!” he broke in, fire flashing | fancy I had been too anxious to sell our| railway took a curve. and piled them i- | high across the track, where they would By the auth eit I keep my, money? Wall, I swow! ‘Ten | mer boarding-house—handsome -city girl, | not be seen until the engine was too near or of “A BAD BOY’S DIARY.” to one you're one of the band of robbers} dressed sweetly—laughed at me—vowed | to check the speed of the train. 9 ee oo oy t re hearn tell about! That ar’ bone is | I wesidn oie a. eu poe subscribed Had I become a train-wrecker? Was I ; . : bead | Just a cover so Ss you can enter our houses | —retorted “then she would never do it.” | bound to rob the wrecked passengers? gas Ibe NUMBER FOUR. | an’ lay your plans to come agin—but Pi | Took board in the house for three days—|No, and yes. e wrecked passengers? i] in the THE REWARD OF MERIT. jlet you know me_and Peter, here, an’| played lawn-tennis, rode, drove, sailed, | I had scarcely completed my prepara- with ® ENT , | Hiram Henry, an’ John Jake ar enough Swung in at table—sold three books—paid | tions when I heard the distant thunder of the wars \ to New York for a Rhine-stone | f0r the hull gang!—an’ now you quit} board with another—this morning took | the express, rushing forward toward my I 40) Pin and six more ties. It's hard on | these parts or I'll set the dogs on you. | her out rowing—upset the boat by acci- | barricade. My eyes glared with pretended Pind bot ile, tramping about the country Peddlin’ books, ho, ho! An’ I Keep my | dent—saved her life—put down her name | horror, my mouth fell open, I staggered wick int? ting nich” e summer dust. I’m not get- money in a sock behind the rafters, do I?/| out of gratitude. She cried when I came | to meet the doomed train, wild], waving the sal} U based 4Ccording to the scale on which I I pot AU 12,3 DOW. place to-night, then, | away—promised _ to write to her—all| the red silk handkerchief Kitty gave me wat jpto Publishe My calculations. You see, the | 2 ll put my musket right long side of | wrong on my part, but business is busi-] at our parting. .My signal of danger was ‘as t0 o i, TS Made it out that if there were | 1¢- [I reckon you re after them a nited ness. I must practice to be a good drum- observed, the train slowed up within ten the candle Weragin People in the United States, States bonds, but, forewarned is fore- | mer, and there is no other way. She put | feet of that treacherous obstacle, stopped 6 streane lly to5 8 Six to a family, and every fam- armed, they tell me. | this carnation in my coat lapel, and I put|in time, off tumbled engineer. fireman, Brive then the 4 copy of the “H. of the Wii’d My dear Ba her six dollars in my wallet. All is fair | brakeman, conductor, and passengers. of 30 oy Doseq g Te Ought to be over 8,000,000: dis- | Git!” he said, and as a large dog in love and business. ; re : |} As they saw melI gave a feeble wave ttle fan ents » nd, as there were only sixteen | under the wagon began to growl, I got; rhe “ History of the World” is getting | and fell d: wn in a feint (not faint). » the A» 4,000 eure’ each agent should obtain | YOU can't jest with these stupid farmers | to be a millstone about my neck. I can Some fellow got a flask out of his easily Oh tach ety 8Cribers, which, at two dollars|~ifyou want a joke to go off you must | recite whole pages of it. I dream of it} pocket, and I came to. t an ie the cour the agent, should net him, in drill a hole throtigh their skulls, fix your all night—long panoramas roll out, show- “Thank the Lord! I was able to stop mediate. Dilip Se of two or three years, that fiise, and then apply the match. | ing the 1,100 pictures in exaggerated size | the train.” I feebly murmured. out. Tb 8 eve,” Without which no.trué American It will never do to tell Kitty the whole passing through my weary visions. Some- | They helped me to my feet, they slapped Satistie truth about the book agent business, I|times Pharaoh’s chariots get up fron ; , ; Toes g gas Bi ttdulged oe! what dreams Kitty and walked off up a tedious hill; just as I |}under the Red Sea and try to ride over | flasks: some of the ladies 1 , 1j;on my back, they surrounded me with got hold of my ¥s . : aT , ‘ Te 5 Wari ‘ ; § »? ee te . wp ou te alt when we were figuring the | ©#™* to the top I heard the old man ye ll- | the I yramids, and the [rish Inv inc ible Sihands, others murmured: “How hand- pomenl She to1: low her blue eves sparkled | 128 tome not to stop in the neighbor-| are blowing up the Tower of Babel witl Cyt me that ; : : hood | dynamite real ‘oat base He that if she did not like the | ° : . Ew : eir ;: atic . + eae ught are iegiate with’ She should not be very | Seen) eid: BOD Saou t SA le em | : i ; : cen canvassing the State allo. about three weeks now, | j .-9Wing for wear and tear of | poss cb t St s £ - ear ana tear ot | ally 14 at confide and counting what I lost by sed thin ce Man and expenses, I’ve Y dollars, irt ve =. “yoy estimate I find, at | floor: *, , Ol, ake 2,000 years to make wn upon anid by Gh 000 5 Kitty will be an old t of bi of tae books” time; and there will be M HH q SY phe toe S ty ° the Wina the market which will) Be<2, @aam UBD STH TTA Cle a andl tive on fan’ Out of my sails, I’ve got Ze A int) iin | d and Y ast USineg €r, or go into a more lticra- Ltt B HLH t one Zz tin ek ee ran down to the city HTH) ling yes Mig he & Taare Proposed to the firm of aes HH Le wo CABO tthe I Was e to travel for them; they | I: feat Fe op tale about, Cho atexperienced —come to| e one ne tiene. t Wag hristmas and they would rhe Pe and oaand dashe a fair way to get confi- teats? con 4 own Me abe ca jae I should smile! A man| Q, Boy ly Wht} k Coniq w2de a Jersey farmer to buy | t pert Under He ioe oot ® mule to stand still or 8 Wong dia, te & bunch of firecrackers ; oD ha Ing 5 ue i. da tussel with one this se. ley the jt hig Mens pened to be idle, lean- | old cad al’ tay, ay Woulg ow fence, looking as if poy 38 op I be ready soon for the cut: elf flat jp : | th tna Mlkeg d Ligh ted Sides 8Dped boldly up, Opened my book, hel laveg his e ay down on the top-rail, mn tose” hee Nong At ¢ Sid began to turn the It ne flo, nis Ah? of the pice time I told him the to ae ep Yay" He a] yures briefly but graphic- Jet an toa! thing, t open his onth till I y are idl. Dens to 80 6 rough, and too tired and s rap of Nhig® book ay €Xcept to add in a whis- | OW ee nthe py, ery 004 man should have | Ut e * AO en if tbe i) tight Sut a stub of a pencil and , fires will Mle leet, Ree Margin of the leaf— e weed ab he eor Don Ret purty pictures, much | ‘{T IS MY PRIVILEGE TO HAVE SAVED YOUR LIVES. NO TESTIMONIAL, IF YOU PLEASE! ‘ fire oc ; ok F tink .p Vent to buy.” BUT, DI’ ANY OF YOU WISH TO SUBSCRIBE !” be” ps vite Clieye rf Warm water out of the | © his ee ie tt it will Pwallowed a pollywog—j|and tired. I paid ten cents to a nice, (siege began, or how many meals a day J x0eth, nied; Went into a snake or aj neat little woman for a glass of milk, | Napoleon ate at the island of St. Helena, ie ogee y's Non 4. 08 I kicked off every | patted the crowns of three little tow-heads, | or who is to be our next President, and je Be t i, Ut | ee Way for the. next half|and had just persuaded her how badly | how long Miss Anthony has to live, and s+ 48 pes Riel Pocket 4 My business smile out | she needed a book like the History of the I can. answer without a mistake. The it, tbe a chi & stra nd glued it on as I ap-| World when several men came riding up , lightning calculator is nothing compared owl a \ opttte 7 erry field, where women | to the door. She glanced out of the win-|to me, From the beginning down to the pip a ety, ft epting cae Picking and two men | dow, and cried: — next election I can tell_you anything you one eal . en tine aes On a wagon, | “Dear me! there’s the sheriff and some' want to know. What I want is change; 1isaB ‘te, 8 the oe, merits of the book to| of the neighbors. Who on earth can they I feel if I do not have it I shall lose my yor m wi hey oes Waiting for another | be after! Dear me, how curious!” mind. The book is too~ big a thing for wort pak Wyleg. ¢ t evened, and turned the| They tied their horses and came _in.|me. When I have talked an hour at the it iP clay t like! malty ¢p,humbs stained with | The faces of two were familiar. rate of: three thousand words a minute, dy " Ne elder one said. | “There’s the rascal! I told ye so! The and, at the end, the party says coolly: “If ty ¢ “Ake it Nertah quite-some ‘much. | boldness of him! Mrs. Baker, you’ve had it was a clothes-line or a feed-cutter they » tin garden truck I’d|a narrow escape—these innocent young might think a spell about it,” and shut , We fo Y heaq ; |’uns, too! What would ’ave been Baker’s the door on me so quick they catch my het tb ty bre Barden | ae aBty, saying I’d| feelin’s if he had got home to supper an’ coat-tails in the squeeze and tear ’em half “ He, gee punk. now! rere neta try oF Portrait of the Father of/floor! Your puss in your pocket, too! their old doors. But I have some fun. I ou ead dy, thy O0d.c asked, showing him a|for all the world! Sheriff, you see we, had some this afternoon. I don’t always thre* tpe malay? of ~SUt of Washi ee : ten eut hi as al eae jD og, Qe Who?” ashingtcn. wasn’t a minute too soon. an‘cuff him, ; turn the other cheek, if it is a brass one. hol’, the My hig * he returned, looking | fore he shoots us all,” for I had got be-| No, indeedy. 1e Ae Mrekto, “OUntry_« | hind the table and taken out my revolver. I was lying ona grassy bank beside a/| y ble soi “0, tog the Y¥—George W ashington, In, that position I made an address to} stream, resting my corns. It was a lonely the YY i h, o lie »Steat, good man who/the sheriff which convinced him his spot, not a house in sight. I was think- p th, °teq’ WeeS T+ neighbors had made a mistake. “And | ing I would never walk the country roads maby the Mote Rep aMericn ao who you mean—| now,” said I, “to convince me you are another day. I was made for finer work. eli 0 le aS), Py Yea) Ge lim, but we’ve got aimy book. It’s only six dollars, and, business paid and there was something in reet Fp af Py tong lwayg @2) Jackson. Me and my | worth its weight in gold. You'll never) the way of fun evenings. As I lay there y re gee ; Mey shir ound.” for him when ’lec-| regret it. Step up and lay down the|I noticed the steel rails of the road once q tb tbe % i's hg” &n the’ and I tell you myj| money, and we'll call it quits.” yclept Erie passing not far away, on an +t of ne pr, 1 Wpleg Shi rh ©Y mus’ do the same— I laughed and they laughed. Whether | embankment running through the meadow pen ne pie Ml, © bein’ stiddy to your | it was a sense of justice or the click of | and about twelve or fifteen feet high. nt will 9 4! On he’s . my weapon I don’t know, but the whole An idea worked itself Into my jaded side pis ngs, oe said very fine wood-cut of | five gave me their names and planked brain. I looked _cautiously about—not a er iylocttte, dng ; down the price; but they remained to human being in sight. If my man of the A" ¢ Said Know Jackson was a/ protect Mrs. Baker until I had passed out strawberries had seen et subsequent by hy OOF d e; of sight. Taking subscribers at the point proceedings” he would have een certain k 4o}) Se and i laughing. “vou go|of the pistol is rather pushing business, I belonged to the band of robbers! . Nahin yor fet six of those old, but I was led into it by circumstances. Consulting my watch I found the Chi- q the ~ have tied er; up in that July 1st.—Had rather an exciting day— cago express would be along in about a, ters » And I'll send you | several things happened, Guess I won’t fifteen minutes, I ran toa place where I have become a walking history. Ask/men removed the rails the | .y rac ¢ ag “WT » 1e ace af ale pF Or, , > > = ‘ : ; ; Mrs. Astor or Mrs. Van- | ther on, It was noon, and I was hungry | mae the age of Helen of Troy, when the) spoke of getting up a testimonial. |found ye all murdered on this kitchen | off, I sometimes get mad enough to kick | { Dr lca and fit into the War| sorry for slandering an innocent man Ij Better sell ham sandwiches again. I} 118 ue roth 40 of Mile of He?” I don’t believe | want you all to step up and subscribe to; would stick to the large towns, where | 1} some he is, noble fellow !” The enthusiasm grew. While the train- passengers “No, nol” I cried; “nothing of the kind! I have only done what any man would have done under similar circum- |tances. It is my privilege to have saved | your lives. No testimonial, if you please! | But, if any of you wish to testify your gratitude by subscribing, ete——” ~ ~ Imagine the rest—there is not room for it in this journal; but the conductor gave me five minutes to take down names and addresses, and when the train moved on I | had forty new subscribers—fact! true as | you live! What did that engineer mean | by thrusting his tongue in his cheek and lyelling back. “Sold, by thunder!” Did be mean my history was sold, or the pas- sengers? (TO BE CONTINUED.) <> MIDSHIPMAN MERRILL From Forecastle to Quarterdeck, By Lieut. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY, Author of ‘Cadet Carey fe ,»” ete., ete. [“MIpaeIPMAN MERRILL” was commenced in No. 22. sack nudf&mbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] CHAPTER XXXIV. A LETTER FROM HOME. KA ARK MERRILL had passed his M first year in his fight for fame, | Lo", and he had won against every ob- *osS> stacle placed in his path. | The humble fisher lad, “entered at large |for gallant services rendered,” but com- ing from the rock-bound coast of Maine, | the nursery of hero sailors, as is, in fact, ithe whole coast of New England, had cast his anchor to windward and thus kept himself off the breakers. It had held firm, and he had been landed as the master mind of his class. | Thanks to a splendid physique he had |passed the surgeon, and his gratitude went out whole-souled to his noble |mother, because her teachings had en- | abled him to know sufficient of books to enter upon his career as a cadet. — Thanks to his splendid training as a |sailor, a fisher lad, and mail-carrier in the roughest weather, he had the consti- | tution, training, and endurance to face every hardship, and thus had won victory in sports as well as in the study hall. He possessed _a soul too proud to fail | after what the Honorable Secretary of the | Navy had done for him, and the encour- lagement given him by Commodore Lu- cien. To that officer he had written, return- ine the money he had paid for his “outfit,” and received a kind, encourag- ing letter in return. Though confident that the commandant, and other officers of the academy, were his firm friends, he had been most cau- tious never to abuse that friendship. He had fought his way unaided, and he believed that he had won the respect and friendship of his comrades, or most of | them, against every slur cast upon him, every innuendo, every prophecy of failure. Warmly came the congratul lations of the cadets upon his suecess, and going to his room with a happy heart he found there Bemis Perry, who said warmly: “Old man, you knocked Clemmons clean over the ropes, and the Lord bless you for it. I just heard him say that next | year would tell a different story, so you 44656 GoonD NEWS. know what is before you. He is a bad man on even terms.” “Yes, he’s a dangerous rival, I admit; but being forewarned is forearmed, Perry, and I thank you for the hint. Clemmons did splendidly, and I congratulate you upon your standing number three—make * it number two next time, for I intend to be number one.” “Well, Merrill, that is the first boast I ever heard from your. lips; but I’ll keep it dark, and book it for future reference.” “Do so,” said Mark, with a laugh. “Ah! I nearly forgot to tell you that I receipted for three express packages for you, and put them in your wardrobe.” “Three express packages for me?” asked Mark, with surprise. “Yes, you will find them here,” and Bemis Perry opened the wardrobe. One was a box a foot square, marked: “VALUABLE. “CADET MIDSHIPMAN MARK MERRILL.” The second was a small package also, bearing a value mark, while the third was a money envelope, addressed in a graceful, feminine hand, which caused Mark to exclaim: “This is from my dear, good mother.” He broke the'seal, and within found a letter and one hundred dollars, The letter he hastily read. follows: and It was as “CLIFF CASTLE, Thursday. “My Own, DEAR Son: I have had youirc my mind ever since your last letter informing me of your triumphs in the sports allowed at the academy, and your determination to win the first honors of your class, though, as you state, young Clemmons, of B——, may be a dangerous rival. “T fear that you will study too hard and make yourself ill, for well [know your determined nature to stop at no obstacle. My anxiety Is such*that I wish you to telegraph me of your health the moment you receive this, for T express my letter from B-——., and have arranged to have your mes- sage sent to me as soon as if arrives. T shall bein suspense until I hear from you. 1 send herewith one hiidred dollars, knowing that you will have use for money, now that vour: first year is about ending, and [ can readily spare it, as your venture with your schooner has turned out most substan- tially, as | hinted in a former letter. ‘Captain Crane is as honest as the day ts long, and has paid me from the earnings of the schooner during the past year twelve hundred dollars as my share, and as the expenses of Peggy and myself are so modest. one-third the sum supplies our wants. Then, too, I have not had to touch. the amount in bank, which you sent to me from the cruise to Norfoik, so, you see, you can afford to use the money [I send you. I have subscribed for a New York daily and anxiously read in it all naval news, so, you see, you are ever in my mind, my dear son. I suppose you will go upon a cruise for the summer, and | hope it will greatly benetit you aft r your year of hard study, also giving you a chance to see something of the world. “Next year [shall try and pay you a visit. My health is excellent, and Peggy is positively getting fat. Cap'ain Crane and his boys always ask about you. I had no idea how many warm friends you had in B——, until J came here to-day. I am writ- ing this letter at the hotel, and Miss Virgene, who is a lovely girl, asks me to send her best wishes and regards.” There was a little more about home! affairs, and then Mark sprang to his feet. “Perry, I must go and telegraph to my mother, as she fears I am ill, so open those other two packages for me, please.” Then Mark hastened out of the room, obtained leave, and sent the following dispatch: “Letter recelved with money. Many thanks for your kindness. Am in perfect health. Stood Number One in my class, Regards to Peggy, With love, MARK.” CHAPTER XXXV. THE MIDSHIPMAN’S REVERIE. G 4 AVING telegraphed his mother as ‘Kf72y «reauested, Mark Merrill made his way back to the academy. 4 If he had sought for an oppor- tunity to show his popularity it could not have come to him any better, for at the telegraph office the operator who read his message said, pleasantly: “Permit me to congratulate you, Mr. Merrill, upon your success.” The sergeant at the entrance to the academy grounds also had a polite and pleasant congratulation for him, as did several of the officers’ wives whom he met, while a group’ of cadets, as he went by, gave him a salute and a hurrah. Returning to his room he was. greeted with a shout of delight from Bemis Perry. “Old man, you are a lucky dog! Be- hold!” Upon the table before him lay a hand- some watch and chain. Upon one side of the watch was en- graved a yacht scudding along in a storm, -and at her helm a _ bare-headed, bare- footed boy. The engraving was certainly most ar- tistically done, while beneath were the words: “A BOY PILOT OUR ONLY HOPE.” Ufon the other side of the watch was engraved the following: “PRESENTED TO “CADET MIDSHIPMAN MARK MERRILL, ' as a souvenir of his heroism in risking his own life to save others from death,” | the yacht Midshipman, and the name of the Secretary of the Navy. “There’s something for dren to be proud of, Merri Perry. “Yes, Iam proud of it myself; but it is more than I deserve, Perry, asI did not risk my life, you know, for I could have swam back to the shore if I found I could not have reached the yacht, and I got my reward in my appointment here; but here is a card,” and Mark read aloud: “Since your entrance to the Naval Academy my eye has been upon you, my young friend, and [ congratulate you upon your success, and beg your acceptance of the accompanying as a token of my appreciation of the debt of gratitude I owe you.” Po grandchil- 1,” cried Bemis “Most neatly expressed, Merrill; but now look here,” and Perry took from the box a mercss gold-mounted sea-glass, “How beautiful?” exclaimed Mark, as he had just put his watch and chain in place. “The commodore has got his eye on you, | too, Merrill,” said Perry, with a laugh, | as he pointed to what was engraved on | the glasses: “PRESENTED AS A TRIBUTE TO TRUE COURAGE TO CADET MIDSHIPMAN MARK MERRILL, FROM DaviD LUCIEN, COMMODORE U.S. Navy.” Mark Merrill was deeply moved by these expressions of gratitude and good will from such men as were the donors of the magnificent gifts to him. He walked to the window of his room, glass in hand, and stood gazing Jist- lessly out upon the scene before him. It was no dream, as he had often feared, for before him was the ocular demonstra- tion of the fact that he was a naval cadet in the service of his country. His thoughts went back to little more than a year, when in his little surf-skiff he was carrying the’ mail through sun- shine and storm along the rugged coast, Just then Scott Clemmons passed be- fore him, and he recalled the change since that meeting at B——, when his toy ship had been broken. Then Clemmons, the son of a rich man, coming of a family of aristocrats, had seemed to tower far above him. But to-day how different, for Clemmons was his vanquished rival. Then he was, as his rival had so often said, a poor fisher lad, unknown to all except the few who admired his pluck as a young sailor. Now he stood here a victor, honored by his commanders and comrades, the recipi- ent of costly gifts from the head of the navy, and one high in rank. Then, little over a year befora he was poor, his mother with scarcely the money to buy medicine, and now she had sent lrim money and had plenty remaining, what seemed 1 small fortune to her and to him, for he was economical, though not mean, and not a dollar of his pay had. he squandered. The past was behind him, the future opened brightly before him. Three more years” and he would win *Before the making of the term six years at the Naval Academy. THE AUTHOR. his fight for fame, if all went well. He had vowed to win, and that vow must be kept, come what might, against all odds. “Only death shall ‘conquer me!” broke sternly from his lips, as the midshipman finished his reverie and turned again toward his room-mate, whose very pres- ence he had forgotten. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE FIRST CRUISE, T last the active days of prepara- tion had passed, the stormy scenes + \& of hope and despair for the gradu- ‘a ey ““3- ates and those striving to stand at the head of their classes had gone, and a calm had fallen upon the Naval School, A restful lull was upon all, The graduates, those who had become full-fledged officers, had gone off on their short leave to their homes, to receive the congratulations of kindred and friends, to enjoy a rest before returning to report for stern duty afloat. They had sapped from light-hearted boyhood with all its joys, across the threshold of manhood with all and ambitions. The first class and the third were busy preparing for the annual cruise, the remainder of the cadets were to stay be- hind and while the time away as best they could between duty and the freedom allowed them. Not as toy sailors were the cadets to go to sea, but in the capacity of ordinary seamen. Theirs was to be the duty of sailors be- fore the mast, and they were to be drilled and disciplined in all their duties as such. its cares Below was the date of the saving of | must learn the duties of those they were to order aloft, and, learning to obey to perfection, they could the better learn to thoroughly command. Of course, having stepped up a grade, and entered upon a higher plane of study and work, Mark Merrill was to go on the sea cruise. Then, too, Scott Clemmons, Bemis Perry, and the others of his grade were to go with him, along with the men who had stepped into the places of those who had emerged from the embryo state of the cadet into the reality of the officer. An old vessel of war of full rig, with- out steam, and sail only as a propelling power, a ship with a record away back two generations, was the craft that was to become the sea school of the young sailors. They sailed in joyous spirits, all anx- ious to rove the deep blue sea, “With a wet'sheet, A owing sea, And a wind that follows fast.” Mark Merrill was now like one in his true element. He had been literally born upon the ocean, and from his earliest remembrance had known how to row and sail a boat, to swim and to face the ocean in sunshine and tempest. All his companions could see that Mark’s learning aboard ship had.come from stern experience rather than teach- ing, and here, too, Scott Clemmons felt his inferiority, and it but added another cup of bitterness to the draught he was forced daily to swallow, for still did the “poor fisher lad” prove his right to be his master. The voyage had been mapped out for the cadet cruiser, and after a run down the beautiful Chesapeake she rounded the capes, and began to roll upon the blue waters of the Atlantic. Her first port was to be New York, and thither all, letters had been ordered to meet her, while many of the relatives and friends of the young sea-rovers were there assembled to meet them and wish them a bon voyage upon their cruise across the seas. Hardly had the anchor been let fall in the North River when a boat with one oarsman came off bearing a visitor. “Merrill, take an observation of that fellow and see if it is not Barney Bres- lin,” said Bemis Perry, pointing to the occupant of the boat. “It certainly is; but can he be coming aboard here?” asked Mark, in surprise. “He is; but if there’s a man aboard who speaks ta him he ought to be*given the cut direct.” Mark said nothing, and soon after the boat was hailed by the officer of the deck. “T have letters for Cadet Scott Clem- mons, and it is important for him to re- ceive them at once,” was the answer to the hail. “Ay, ay, come alongside,” was the re- sponse of the officer of the deck, and the hoat soon ran up to the gangway. The next moment Barney Breslin aeehped on board, and was in the presence of those who had been his companions at the Naval School, face to face with those who had known him as a thief, His face was flushed, but it seemed rather from the effects of drink than from shame, for his whole appearance indicated that he led a dissipated life. His dress was of the shabby genteel, and those who knew something of his an- tecedents felt convinced that his father had not taken him back into the bosom of the family, or else, as the son of a rich man, why was he looking so very seedy? Scott Clemmons was, below aiding ‘the commander in some work at the time he was sent for, and he was excused to go on deck and meet his visitor, Who that visitor was he had not the re- motest idea, and it flashed through his ses that it might be his paternal ances- or. Bemis Perry was not one to let him off without a shot, so said: “Clemmons, your old friend Barney Breslin has called upon you, and from his looks I yuess he wants a loan.” , The face of Scott Clemmons flushed scarlet, and the blood, as quickly retreat- ing, left it as_white as a corpse. There stood Breslin, calmly gazing about the vessel, with no show of emotion at the awkward predicament he had placed himself in. He had spoken to two cadets near him, calling them by name, and addressing them in the free and easy manner of an old friendship. One of them was Bemis Perry, and he looked him squarely in the face as he said: “By what right, sir, do you dare to ad- dress a gentleman?” With this he walked away and met Clemmons as he came on deck. Decatur Knowles, the other cadet to whom Breslin had spoken, simply cut him dead in silence, and walked away. Just then, as Breslin, not in the least they were to command men they - Ot ee ER + abashed, for he gave a low, defiant laugh, turned and glanced over the Ship; ?iai Clemmons came on deck and. Sif bf toward him, but all saw with 00 Joy ca behoJding him. =: Breslin said as he saw him: oul P “Ab, Clemmons, old a how are Fnott \Q\OME He held out his hand, bub, we OF aw | liy. taking it, Clemmons responded a oe mont voice, quivering with anger, but j that several overheard: 0 gol} ud eXcite; “Why have you dared come Hel@ Wilso ask for me?” ye 0 (10 BE CONTINUED.) \ ———_—_~+-0-»—___— How to Cut Glass. OMETIMES we wish to Cube bottle, tube or vial in 88pm have no diamond. ways of cutting glass that simple and easy. If the tube @ small and thin, take a piece of # about two feet long, and coals of a fire till it is red b dle. Then let one boy hold another, with gloves or pieces ? ‘ne protect his hands, pick up the W cool ends and coil the hot pat glass round the vial. Click! And & snapped just where the ho To cut.a larger vial or bottles the two ends and turn it slow a8 over just above a gas jet. The & r be turned down low, and if r ee? | les bottle care must be taken in a Py pot steady so that it will be heate ttle, nes den” fect circle. Then drop the vee apd ™) side up, into a pail of cold Wa se | will at once fall apart. ing Ber | There are other wag of cutting ti -e-» —___ — Yankee Doodle. OP HE air was ecmposed for drums and 4 fifes, about the middle of the eigh- teenth century, by the Fife-Major of the Grenadier Guards. It was long after it had become familiar to the ears of people in towns where British regiments were stationed that words were first wedded to it. : One of its quatrains ends with a term— ““Maccaroni’’—which calls for explanation. “Yankee Doodle came to town Upon a Kentish pony : He stuck a feather in his hat, And called him ‘Maccaroni.’” “The Maccaronis” were a club of gentle- | men, meeting in London between 1755 and 1770. They had all made the ‘‘grand tour;”’ and their fondness for Italian cookery sug- ' gested their self-chosen designation. They i were the ‘‘swells” or ‘“‘toffs” of the period, and in a little time any man foppishly dressed, and in the extreme of fashion, was called a ‘‘Maccaroni.” The story of the adoption of the air by | the Americans, has been told in a variety of | ways. The following, we think, may be pretty safely depended on: During the War of Independence, the British soldiers used to sing a set of words to this time of which the following stanzas —and very wretched doggerel they are—are specimens :— “There was a Captain Washington, Upon a slapping stallion, A-giving orders to his men, I guess there was a million. *« And then the feathers tn his cap, They locked so tarnal fine-a, I wanted peskily to get And give ’em to Jemima.” When the British troops, under the Mar- quis of Cornwallis, were defeated by the Yankees, and, surrendering, were allowed to retreat through the American lines, with their arms reversed, the Americans borrowed the tune from their foes, and struck up ‘“‘Yankee Doodle” as a taunt in the hour of victory. Thence, by this slight accident, did it become recognized as a national song of pride for all time to come. 447 EXCHANGE DEPARTMENT, {ImPORTANT.—This column is free to all our readers. We will not be responsible for transactions brought about through notices in this columh. All offers must be strictly exchange offers. We will not insert any “for sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arms, explosive, dangerous, or worthless articles. If exchanve notices do not appear in areasonable time, it may be understood that they were not accepted. Address all communications for this column to “Exchange De- partment.”] ee STAMPS.—Philip M. Weiss, 167 Pleasant st., Cincin- nati, O., will give in exchange for each ten foreign coins a packet of twenty-five varieties of stamps. Cata- logues at from 1 to3 cents apiece. All letters answered. _BOOKS.—Fred Steway, 301 Van Houten st., Paterson’ N. J., will exchange five twenty-five cent story books for Nos. 1 to 24 of Goop NEws. SKATES.—Harry Prall, 249 N. 10th st., Philadelphia, Pa., will exchange a pair of nickel-plated skates, cost $3, for Nos. 1 to 16 Goop News PAPERS.—Wm. E. Marsellus, 37 Greig st., Rochester, N. Y., has thirty-four copies of boys’ papers to exchange for twenty numbers of Puck, Judge, or any other similar paper. NEW YORK WEEKLY.—H. McCauley, Box 133, Bowling Green, Va., has Vol. 45 of New York Weekly to exchange for novels published by Street & Smith. Send list. Write at once. All letters answered. STENCILS.—Geo, M. Himmelwright, 631 Wilder st., Philadelphia, Pa., has over 500 cigarette pictures, one small and one large alphabet of stencils, one set of and finished. by reaching out | stencil figures, and 100 songs for the best offer of type. City offers only. i PICTURES.—Charles Schoeneberg, Menomonie, Wis. | has twenty-five ciearette and tobacco pictures to ex- change for ten foreign coins or fifty foreign postage | stamps, CANADIAN MONEY.—Geo. M. Bell, Box 564, Port | as Ontario, Can., has a Canada bill, gas, weights | and measures, also two Great North-western telegraph | ae 3 cent, green, U. 8., 1870, 2 cent, red-brown, U. §., 1883, PICTURES.—A. J. Mann, 288 Lark st., Albany, N. Y., has 300 cigarette pictures, no two alike, many varieties | for best offer of United States stamps. Ninety cent purple and carmine wanted most. | DETECTIVE STORIES.—W. J. Finn, Box 29, Holli- daysburg, Pa., has the Prairie Detective and the Reve- nue Detective to exchange for the best offer in cigar- | ette cards or foreign stamps. | STEM-WINDING WATCH.—H. R. Ashbrook, 517 | Montgomery st., Covington, Ky., has a fine stem-set- | ting andstem-winding watch, with stop second-hand | attachment, also stamps, coins, papers and books for | best offer. All letters answered. | STAMPS.—J. C. Lucas, 121] 8. Story ave., Louisville, | Ky., has many varieties of U.S. postage and revenue stamps, also foreign stamps to exchange for stamps not in his collection. MAGIC LANTERN.—Charles Howell, Ironton, O., has a magic lantern, two bound books, story papers, | and a pen-knife to exchange for an electric motor or a steam-engine. All offers considered. Correspondence solicited. ’ | PAPERS.—Frank Boyne, Sacramento, Cal., has odd | numbers of boys’ papers to exchange for others. |. BOOK.—Fred Williams, 56 Myrtle st., Boston, Mass. has 500 different stamps for best offer; $2.50 worth of reading matter, fifty different stamps, and a book called King Gab’s Story Bag, for best offer of small spy- glass. All letters answered. | BOOK.—George Herrman, 174 Clifton ave., Chicago, Darrell, for best offer. All letters answered. RECIPES.—A. M. Archer, Box 62, New City, Tl, will exchange $3.00 worth of recipes for reading matter. valuable money-making Til., would like to exchange a book, entitled, Gold-Dus | COINS.—Jas. J. Larkin, Athens, Ill, has two fifty cent books and Goop Nrws from Novo. 1 to present date to exchange; also Chinese coins and one old-fashioned ten cent piece to exchange for a artes with a head on it in place of the whole body, dated later than 1835. Write first. BOYS’ PAPERS.—J. W. Fairchild, 384 Bleecker st., New York, has volumes of boys’ papers to exchange for best offer of bound books. STAMPS.—Edgar Pilie, Jr., 83 Orleans st., New Or- leans, La., will give three foreign stamps for every cigarette slip, five for every two clean cigarette pictures, and two rare foreign stamps, for every ticket put up by the American Eagle Tobacco Co. Not less than five of each taken at one time. Wonld like to hear from any one having a typewriter to exchange. Must be in good condition. First come first served. BOOKS.—W. C. Jackson, 3007 Girard ave., Philadel- yhia, Pa., wishes to exchange Buried Treasure and Boy Trapper, by Harry Castlemon, worth $1.50, for Goop NEws from No. 1 to 21, inclusive. BOOKS AND PAPERS.—James L. Thompson, Box 2622, Toronto, Canada, has the books Van the Govern- ment Detective, Tom and Jerry, by Tony Pastor, Life and Adventures of the James Boys, and about $4.50 | worth of weekly papers to exchanye for best offers, or | will exchange separately if desired. STAMPS.—J. E. Barry, 120 Siber st., 8. Boston, Mass. has two volumes of boys papers, about 100 varieties of foreign stamps, three numbers of comic library, 125 Kinney Bros.’ certificates, about 200 cigarette pictures, and a book, entitled, Upside Down, by Rosa Abbott, for best offer. Will exchange separately if desired. FENCING OUTFIT.—Otto Johnson, St. Paul, How- ard County, Neb., has the following articles to ex- change for sporting goods or best offer: One complete fencing outfit, consisting of two pair Solingen steel blade foils, two sets fencing gloves, two best wire masks, two chamois skin plastrons, for protection of the chest. when fencing, one pair-willow basket fencing sticks, all these goods are new and in excellent con- dition; one good yuitar to exchange separately or to- gether; also cicarette albums, certificates, reading matter, and other articles too numerous to mention. RUBBER _ TYPE.—Arthur Bushel, 289 1-2 Main st., Henbery, Conn., has four sets of rubber type to ex- change. Wm. Simon, Washington, D. C., your notice is not an exchange notice, but comes under the heading of “for sale” advertisement, and, therefore, not accepted. aL. J. CONNOR, 222 Walnut st., Philadelphia, Pa., would like to correspond with stamp collectors. Send sheets und receive mine. THE SOUTHERN Stamp Co., 318 West Clay st., Vicks- | burg, Miss., is ready for business. | ; THE SOUTHERN PHILATELIC SocrETY wants members from all paris of the United States, Canada, and Mex- ico. All interested in stamp collecting should join. Each member will receive 100 foreign stamps on join- ing, and a reliable stamp paper for one year. To any one answering this notice we will give three extra rare foreign stamps. Initiation fee twenty cents, silver, yearly dues Frentyfive cents, payable in advance. Now or never is the time to join a reliable stamp | society, Address E, Pilie, Jr., Recretary, & Orleans street, New Orleans, La. 448 Puzzle Corner. eared Please do not Address, e Editor” Goop News, New York City, P. O. Box {Original contributions solicited. gend puzzles containing obsolete words. “Puzzk 273A.) akiaesgee> sy Explanations of the diferent puzzles and their meaning CrYPTOGRAM.—Secret character or cipher writing. EnIGMA.—An obscure statement whose hidden mean- ing is to be discovered. ‘ : ; PuzzLe oR RippLE.—A bewildering question for solution. 3 5 REBuS.—Enigmatical representation of words by figures ; a riddle made up of such representations, TRANSPOSITION.—To substitute one for the other. METAMORPHOSIS.—Change of form, shape, or struc- ture; transformation. |. ANAGRAMS.--A transposition of the letters of a name; forming a new word. |. ° : ‘ Acrostic.—A composition usually in verse, in which the first letter of every line, read collectively, form a name or sentence. , LococripHs.—A word which may be treated as a metagram, decapitation detation and transposition, but leaves a perfect word after each operation. METAGRAM.—Change the first letter of a word to form another word. CHARADES.—Formed on a word each syllable of which is a word. DECAPITATION.—Drop the first letter of a word, leav- ing another word. ae VERBAL CHARADE.—A word, each letter of which is treated seperately ——9——— ee No. 1—DIAMOND. 1 A consonant. 2 A color. 3 Name of the inventor of telegraphy. 4 A country in Europe. 5 An article of furniture. 6 A girl’s name. 7 A consonant, W. H. K. 2—NUMERICAL ENIGMA. The answer contains 45 letters. The 35, 24, 40, 1 is a fish. The 39, 14, 5, 4418 a fish. The 29, 32, 4, 17 is a fish. The 31, 12, 42, 6 is a fault. The 37, 3, 11, 431s a plant. The 10, 16, 28, 30 isan animal. The 45, 34, 38, 2 is an animal. The 1, 25, 22, 38 is a coin. The 33, 9, 15, 41 is a coin. The 26, 20, 21, 23 is a bird, The 19, 36, 7, 18 is a talon. The 13, 27, 3, 8 is to decline, The whole is an old proverb, No. Rvs, No. 83—WoRD SQUARE. 1 A fruit. 2 Soon. 8 A reptile. 4 Results. CRETIA. No. 4—LOGOGRIPH. Whole, you will find I am an illuminator; trans- pose me and Tam found on the sea; again trans- osed and you will find ] am small animals; these eheaded and then transposed will show what we have all done, and this beheaded and 1 am a pre- position. FRANK. No. 5—ANAGRAMS. 1 Guide a lo. 2 I’m Tom Paine. 8 Poor Carl. 4 Tans on no C. 5 Vast flies. 6 Great mats. 6—WORD SQUARE. 1 To startle. 2 To salute. 8 Days of yore. 4 Transparent. 6 An Irish name, No. 7—CURTAILMENTS. 1 Curtail a root and leave an insect; again, and leave a verb. 2 The name of a president and leave a man’s name; again, and leave a woman’s name. 3 A State and leave chiet. Hues R. No. 8—Cross WorD ENIGMA, My first is in great, but not in small. My second is in short, but not in tall My third is in iron, but not in tin. My fourth is in needle, but not in pin. My fifth is in captain, but not in mate. My sixth is in bent, but not in straight. My seventh is in white, but not in black. My eighth 1s in spike, but not in tack. ie H. F. M. ALICE A, No. J. NAPPER. 9—NUMERICAL ENIGMA. My 1, 7, 8, 161s acountry walk. My 3, 2, 5, 11 is a hard substance, My 4, 13, 10, 1, 6, 12 is one that works, My 7, 9, 15, 14, 17 is to bother. My whole Is a popular song. Boru oF Us. No. No. 10.—REVERSIONS. 1 Revert a sliding box and make an equivalent. 2 Revert a vebicle and make a measure. 8 Revert a diseased person and make to drive back. 4 Revert a plant and make an animal. 5 Revert to gather yarn and make an oblique look. 6 Revert a coin and make a nest. 7 Revert placed and make what tells the time. PUZZLER. No. 11—SQUARE WorDS. 1 A word expressing action. 2 Atany time. 8 A girl’s name, 4 A kind of feed, No. 12—ReEBus. SILVER CITY. GOOD NEWS. SA ME fi. thick Mick: Mek Ree, er ee a Answers to Puzzles in No, 27 Good News. | No, 1— «When the land doth feed the clay,; England woe and well-a-day ; But when the clay doth feed the land, Then ’tis well for England.” No, 2— 1 Theodosia. 2 Lucretia. 8 Henrietta. 4 Tabitha. 5 Drusilla. 6 Leonora. GOLD “Patience is a virtue.” Cc ROT ROM E COMP TEA ON Y Y » 6— Blue-bell. Tom ‘‘Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.” DOLT ORE LA m re Tom Thumb. aft) Dock, mock, rock, cock, hock. se Helpless. Springfield, ANSWER TO REBUS IN NO, 27. Money saved is money earned, and time is money. Short Stops. THE more checks a spendthrift has the faster he 08S. Wuicn is the best place on board for oxen ? The steer-age. ~ circular saw. WHEN a shoemaker is about to make a boot, the first thing he uses is his last. For what reason does a fish-monger blow his | horn? For'self-fish reasons. Wuy are ships always called she? they keep a man on the lookout. WuHeEn is an unseaworthy ship like a kitchen garden? When a leek Is springing in it. Wuicu is the strongest day of the seven? Sun- day—because the others are week days, A RAGGED little urchin found fault with a jacket given him because it had no watch pocket. THE new moon reminds one of a giddy girl, be- cause she’s too young to show much reflection. Tr a lady be asked how many rings she has, she may say, with truth, that there is no end to them, Because | profitable ; : Straightforward, and never backward; may their A PROVERB going the round of society is called a ' Two countrymen went into a store to buy ‘hats. They were shown a hat, in the crown of which was 4& piece of looking-glass. One asked what that was for. The other replied. “Why, for the man who buys the hat to see how it fits him.” FLoTTER said that he was never satisfied that a lady understood a kisS unless he had it from her Own lips. Wary cannot a deaf man be legally convicted ? Because it is unlawful to condemn aman without a hearing. AN artist is said to have painted a cork so much like marble, tha&é when he threw it in the water it sank like stone, THE editor of an Ohio paper publishes the names of his subscribers who pay up promptly under the head of ‘Legion of Honor.” A TALL, square-built gentleman was seen walk- ing down the street a few days ago, when all of a sudden he was observed to turn round. ' THE editor who was told that his article was as clear as mud, promptly replied: “Well, that covers the ground, anyhow.” INFANTILE KLEPTOMANIA.—We Saw 4 little rogue the other day, only two years old, who had his father’s eyes and his mother’s nose and chin. “You look,” said an Irishman, toa pale, haggard smoker, ‘‘as if you had come out of your grave to light your cigar, and couldn’t find your way back again.” THERE are a good many people in the world who spend half their time in thinking what they would do if they were rich and the other half in conjec- turlng what they shall do as they are not. A WITNESS Stated : “The person I saw was a man with one eye named Wilkins.” “And pray what was the name of the other eye ?” asked the opposing counsel. A TAILOR dunned a man for the amount of his bill, who replied that he was sorry, very sorry in- deed, that he couldn’t pay it. “Well,” said the tailor, “I took you ‘for a man that would be sorry ; but if you are sorrier than I am I’ll knock under.” A youn@ man in Pennsylvania attempted to stir up several rabbits in a hole with the butt-end ot his gun the other day. Twenty-three shots have been picked out of his shoulder, and the doc- tor 1s still probing. The young man thinks the rabbits must have escaped. THE following is the response of a railroad con- ductor to the toast ‘The Babies :” ‘May their route through life be pleasant and their ties well laid; their tracks fathers be safe conductors; their mothers faithful tenders, and their switches never misplaced.” A YANKEB lady, whose horror of tobacco amounts almost to a disease, took a seat. beside a man in a railway carriage one day, and nervously asked him: “Do you chew tobacco, sir?” ‘‘No, ma‘am,” replied the astonished man; “but ; soe I can get you a chaw, if you’re sutfferin’ for tr A RAILWAY accident lately occurred, caused by the axle of a tender giving way, which detained a train several hours. A lady inquired of a gentle- man. passenger why it was so delayed. He gravely replied: “Madam, it was occasioned by what Is often fol- lowed by serious consequences—the sudden break- ing of a tender attachment.” A Waa4 tried to annoy a popular preacher by ask- ing him whether the fatted calf of the parable was male or female. ‘‘Female to be sure,” was the reply; “for I see the male”—looking the questioner full in the face —‘is yet alive in the flesh before me.” — Our Mail Bag. ¥ ur Mall Bdge. @ : nly it [Questions on subjects of general interest = aT dealt with in ‘the “Mail Bag.” Me Se pres questions not answered. Goop NEWS ae and (bee two weeks in advance of date of niblication ree eek! fore answer's cannot appear until two OF -ntended e after we receive them. Communications NEWS" 7 this column should be addressed GooD Bag, P. O. Box 2734, New York City.] Jersey Will(New York).—No. C. L.—We pay all postage on premiums L. H. (Paw Paw, Mich.)—It is not possible. Marlston (New York.)—We thank you for ¥ arn opinion. goril * uu f A. J. M. (Albany, N. Y.)—Yes. We thank yo ‘ opinions. sail: M. H. J. (rooklyn.)—1. Some time before From $15 up. oo patti i @. L. J. (Woonsocket, R. 1.)—We will give - consideration. iro at E. M. (Buffalo, 'N. Y.—The authors you ind . = do not write for us. pel) iy D.C S.(St. Johnsbury, Vt.)—James EC Fy ; the Governor of Ohio. “yal -_ G. H. (Chicago, Il.)—1. A text book om vm Mechanics,” will cost $3.50. 2. No. aos ; 7. J.C. (Paducah, Ky.)—You will find com? Goop News LIsBRaky in this issue. thet J. J. W. (Cleveland, 0.)—We will give the m# - inquire about our earliest attention. sa Pumis (Trumansburg, N._Y.)—We will serial story by Oliver Optic in a few W' i W. W. Baltimore, Md.)—1. Goon NEWS food ah not appear in book form. 2, Your writing i§ a Newt Sp _W.A. L. (New. Oxley, Can.)—We find in _ City Directory the names of two peop? ; E. F. R. (Philadelphia, Pa.)—We done ¢ affliction would debar you from €2 Academy. te a ; in Grit Grimesy (Chicago, Il1.)—You can gape Nat Po pew at a oftice of the paper ; is situated in your city. a ep Oo ; i, 8. yt OP A Constant Reader (Harlem, N. ¥.-3y the ae pons will entitle you to select books from 3 Goop News LrsBrary only. ¥ a ov | R. A. (Brooklyn, N. ¥)—1, It is not Ment # rich to become an authorif you have toy ; handwriting and composition are reer W. M. C. Moberly, Mo.)—1. We thine Shelling civil engineer would suit you. 2 2er¢ pe right, but your handwriting 1s rathe: aiall . 2: Z S. (Burlington; Kan.)—W4 fee GOO ob objections to you naming your C19 © tne and will take pleasure in’ publishing oe sent us. e by. On articl tee Electricity, (Ironton, O.)—1. Read the 2 outs, oS R. Coryell in No. 27'of Goop NEWS. Cuero arabic. i as iz ve , 3. Your other inguiry W oat column last week. a ar at Y. L. §. (New York.) —1. We answers ot aiiiad last week in this column, 2. We Ave und j with the party you write about, bu if his age is less than thirty-five yeat®- ie VW e p Ge yee of A Prince Fortunate (Louisville, 33 society “g 1 you write about is either tired of yor tentione: trying tomake you declare your me ate prospects for the profession you 2 ox! and W. C. (Milton, Fla.)—1.. You will’ phe column in. this issue. 2. 75, her write about will soon have anot our Goop News. We thank you fory + of any, W.H. P.(Utah.)—We do not knehig the distance you name for boys URC™ ay We are pleased to know that Phy that you “wait anxiously for? week.” J..W.L. (Chicago, Ti.)—The st not be published in Goop NEW ter: we think you will like much better ing your Sook was unavoidable, # excuse us. we We T w ju recel¥9 A. G@, (Allegheny, Pa,)—You wil Perit lars regarding military matters rfioned in the parties whose names are mer js 008 Pi from time to time, under the Matters.” } ; W. R. M.. (New York.)—1. There do 2B? oe 0} the Adirondack Mountains, but din exPepiy could make your living and tray our jad! the game you would kill. 2 something of a business hand. : j-1. Constant Reader (Chicago, Dl a45 mane Society Medals are. presented j dize their lives to save others. story ticulars in this issue. 2. The to out peared in book-form previous rat, 00 sy "i J. 0. H. lizabeth, N. J.)—The fe” gavacaile oll ever crossed the Atlantic Wa, oq, she pee? ant Savannah, Ga., to Liverpoo = fuel bart | Savannah on May 22d, but, ip; sumed in ten days, she did on June 2d, On April 23d, 1838, the 4° Great Western and Sirius arrived f dig mencing anew and expedition: Th q between England and Amer e pass et measuring 1,340 tons, made th n se against head winds and @ Foul) or gi vessels above-named were P' entire e r WV ne a “Innisfail? Catskill, N. YD ihore Oto Wise Lo Hudson or North River is 74? navigh dene at Mall for about 117 of which it ° ess DU foo 4) ships, and for 166 to_ those, Ol 2 in Jeni ight a. Shannon, in Ireland, is 224 oh its? all of which it is navigable. aD structed in many parts by } river Thames, in Enwland, 5 not navigable further than i don, save fortvessels of sia? though not the longest a ad comprising as it does aD | river Severn, in Englane. ® 7 avi length, for 180 of which it ah nd, non is the longest in TyudsoD- but is not so long as the Accepted—Geo, T. Schweiz, New York. ; L- A. Durgin, Pittsfield, N. Tenn. ; Dy : rid Daisle, Minne Mate inf ek J. B.S., Greenpoint, 7 agp eee to ‘orm wishing Py f Au. boys in Albany adress the Sherman Cadets, street, Albany, N. Y. - —— ——— ———— om rilling Detective aD 42 with present 10 cts. J CITT | == nee Vol Seen. An s oR ima — TTT Hi} MT ly L - TT ‘ = —— S = —— SS =